Always the Tone of Surprise
by Crona4
Summary: Three years after the Battle of Hogwarts where Lord Voldemort was killed, Ron and Hermione wish for nothing more than to settle down and live in peace. However, nothing is ever peaceful when the Weasleys are involved, and the couple are forced to face small challenges in their everyday life, however there are still dangerous Death Eaters on the loose, and that's never a good sign.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter world and all rights belong to J.K. Rowling.**

 **A/N: This is not only my very first Harry Potter fic, but also my very first Romione fic. I do hope you guys like it, and depending on the feedback, I will either continue or discontinue this. No matter what the feedback is, however, I will still write it, your responses just determine whether I will post more or not. Well, here it is.**

A light breeze blew through the room, penetrating the thin blanket that covered him. He shuddered slightly, reaching his arm across the long pillow. He frowned and opened his eyes a crack, gazing at the other side of the bed as if not comprehending the lack of Hermione.

Eventually he put two and two together, sighing and dragging himself out of bed. He threw the dislodged cover back where it belonged, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. His vision wandered across the room and landed on the doors to the balcony. Sure enough, they were partly open, granting the chilly night air access inside.

Ron crossed over the linoleum floor that stretched the whole house. They swore that they'd have carpeting placed once they moved into the two-floor home, but one year later they had still dealt with linoleum. He peered out into the night which was lit slightly by the street lamps and the cloudless, starry full moon sky.

A figure was sitting on the brick wall railing, her dangling legs swinging slightly as the breeze pressed on. However, she was kept safe by the many charms placed on the house to prevent serious damage. Ron remembered suggesting a few of them as well after the first time she ventured out here.

He was shocked to see her still in her tank top and thin sleep pants. He had reckoned that as the inevitable chill drew nigh, she would at least remember to wear a jacket. He pulled his shirt lower and shivered slightly in the autumn night.

Ron reached the railing and swung his legs over, sitting to the left of her. She didn't even look at him, but he had expected this. She was staring out at the world as if there were nothing but puzzles that she was required to solve in it. He also cast his gaze outward, breathing in the fresh air.

It was hard keeping his eyes away from her; he loved it when the moonlight danced across her face, illuminating her beautiful features. He reckoned it was around midnight as the moon was directly above them. After a few minutes he gave up in his determination to evaluate the universe like her and turned his head to look at her instead. Besides, he always considered her much more wonderfully fascinating than whatever was out there.

He calmly reached his hand out, gently tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. She still avoided his gaze, though she couldn't help but shudder ever so slightly at his touch.

"Nightmare?"

His voice filled the seemingly unbreakable silence. At the sound of it, she closed her eyes, breathing deeply. It wasn't uncommon for her to come out here at night, whenever she slipped past Ron, that is. She knew that he hated when she didn't wake him up for comfort, but she also loathed disturbing his otherwise peaceful slumber.

She didn't speak quite yet, but instead she just shook her head slowly, opening her eyes again. Her brown irises were glossy as she effortlessly held back tears that she knew were just there to taunt her. An eternity seemed to have passed with the couple sitting as still as the stone gargoyles that used to guard their school before Ron finally snaked his arm around her waist, holding her closer to him.

Hermione sighed slightly and leaned her head on his shoulder without a moment's hesitation. They both knew how much she loved being able to lean on him and feel his warm flesh beneath her, a perfect shield from the cold.

Her eyes fluttered close again, her mind still as jumbled as it had been an hour ago when she had ventured out there. He gently rubbed her arm with his hand, trying to heat her freezing body. She let out a breath as he did, relaxing ever so slightly.

He planted a light kiss on the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her: vanilla with a hint of parchment smell, undoubtedly from the books she always sticks her nose in. He wished they would have stayed there forever, but he knew that if they did, she would catch a cold and then he'd be fretting over her.

After a moment's consideration, Ron leaned his head down slightly so his mouth was close to her ear. "We should probably go back inside before we freeze to death. There's a nice, warm bed waiting for us in there," he whispered to her.

She turned her face into his chest and he could feel her smile against him at the notion. She nodded into him and a few seconds later she was swinging her legs back onto the balcony, Ron mimicking her movement. She slipped her hand into his as he led her into their bedroom, closing the doors and pulling the curtains over them.

Immediately Hermione crawled into bed, situating herself on the right side, which was her side, as Ron followed suit, pulling the blanket over the both of them. Hermione snuggled into him, loving the feel of his hand cupping her upper back and holding her as close to him as physically possible without hurting either of them.

"Tell me the truth…" His muffled voice reached her ears as he rested his lips against her temple. "Was it a nightmare that woke you up?"

Hermione hesitated, feeling sort of nervous. She nodded her head, her lips slightly parted as she tried to find the words to speak. "I didn't want to wake you…" she mumbled against him. "You looked too peaceful and I thought it best not to bother you," she admitted honestly.

A light chuckle emanated from deep within his chest. "Hermione," he began. "You know that the best way for me to ever wake up is when you wake me. I would wake up every night for over ten years straight if it meant you didn't feel scared and alone. You know I would."

If she was being frank with herself, she did understand this. However, it seemed like a crime to disturb such a deep slumber. "Regardless, you were still so quiet and calm. Besides, I didn't feel scared and alone. I mean, I might have technically been alone but I did not feel alone or lonely in any way. I just felt-" she broke off as he pulled back to look at her, a knowing look on his face.

"-Empty…" she finished, realizing then that he wouldn't want her to feel empty, even. She hadn't noticed how indifferent she had been until now, and the look on his face was almost too much to bear. She guiltily buried her face in his chest, trying to hide the light blush.

Ron, luckily, was not in a showy mood, and simply reinforced his arm's grasp to hold her even closer. "Hermione, I don't want you to feel empty either. I think that's when I'm most frightened for you. Do you know why?" he inquired. She didn't respond. "Look at me," he commanded and after a few reluctant seconds, she obeyed with a miserable look on her face.

He understood that she felt bad for not waking him, but he really wasn't mad. A little exhausted maybe, but not mad. "I don't want you to feel empty because you are filled with such incomprehensible intelligence, unmatchable talent, and breathtaking beauty that it would be a heavy loss on the world if you were to feel empty. Most of all, though, you are filled with the purest, most loving heart anyone could ever dream of having."

She was glad that the room was dark and he didn't fully see how hard she blushed at his flattery. "Stop…" she mumbled, though they both knew that she was just embarrassed. She retreated to the warmth of his chest once more, trying to hide her burning face, but he could feel her smile.

Ron let her wrap her own arm around him in return before he actually began contemplating sleep. He waited until he could hear her steady, deep breaths and feel the rise and fall of her chest before he let his eyes flutter shut and he fell into an uneventful sleep.

Hermione woke up first the next morning, shifting in his grasp. She forced her eyes to open, remembering last night. Somehow, she understood that Ron wasn't mad at her. She had been escaping to the balcony at least twice a week ever since they had moved in there. It wasn't only bad dreams that provoked her, though. Sometimes she just had too many thoughts on her mind.

She gasped slightly, mentally kicking herself for not thinking about it sooner. She carefully climbed out of bed without waking Ron, grinning at his snores. They were always a comfort to her. She excitedly crossed the room, slipping on a pair of slippers and grabbing a handful of clothes for the day.

When she entered the bathroom, she found Crookshanks sitting contentedly in the sink, meowing at the sight of her. He had luckily survived the Battle of Hogwarts with nothing but a broken leg and a gash on his shoulder, and was currently ten years old, having been two when she acquired him.

Hermione hesitated, and then scooped him out of the sink. "Sorry," she murmured to him apologetically, but she knew that he loathed water with a burning passion. He hissed softly and trotted out of the room as Hermione closed the door behind her, preparing to take her shower.

The shower only lasted about five minutes, as she was in a hurry to get to Diagon Alley. She quickly dressed and pulled some sandals on, knowing that Diagon Alley wouldn't be very busy as it was early September and the kids just went off to Hogwarts.

Once she was ready, she apparated inside and walked at a fast pace until she found the antiquities shop that served as her destination. The boy that was working inside seemed to be reading a book and drumming his fingers on the counter lightly and lazily. He heard the bell ring as the door opened and looked up.

The boy immediately dropping his book, his mouth hanging open as he recognized who was in his father's shop. "Miss Granger…" he breathed out. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" His voice was welcoming and warm as he attempted to hide his overlarge smile at the fact that a legendary war hero was _inside his father's shop._

Hermione let out a small chuckle as he failed to cover his beaming, and approached the counter. "No need to become too excited, I'm just a normal witch," she reassured him. He nodded, but didn't look convinced. "I was wondering if you knew where to find a Pensieve?"

He looked deep in thought for a moment before answering. "Pensieves are very hard to come by, Miss Granger. Of course we wouldn't keep such valuable artifacts in Harold Hugh's," he referred to the shop's name, looking sorry, "but that is only because students buy school supplies here and we wouldn't want them acquiring something so powerful," he explained.

"Of course," Hermione agreed, nodding. "But do you know where one could be for sale?" she inquired.

The boy hesitated, apparently thinking again. "Well, I know that in Knockturn Alley, Borgin & Burkes just sold their last one a couple of months ago, but they should be getting in a new shipment in a few weeks. However, you're much too important of a person to go skulking around in Knockturn Alley," he waved away the idea with one hand.

Hermione blinked a couple of times, seriously contemplating the idea of venturing into Knockturn Alley. "As I said before, I am just as normal as the next girl. I have no higher value than you do, or your father," she smiled at him.

He seemed deeply complimented, beaming at her. "I'll tell you what. If we ever come across a Pensieve, we will buy it just for you and give it to you free of charge," he offered.

There was a slightly astonished look on Hermione's face. "But if you did that for me, you'd have to do it for everyone, and we wouldn't want that. Oh no, I'd prefer to pay you twice as much as you paid for it." And with that, she left the shop, waving as she exited and disapparated home.

She took a stop up by her and Ron's room to make sure he was asleep before walking down the stairs and into the kitchen. She retrieved eggs from the fridge, as well as bacon and milk. She proceeded to create breakfast for her boyfriend, scrambling the eggs as the bacon cooked in the microwave.

When the eggs were nearly finished, she moved to the coffee machine and poured some into a mug for Ron, adding heaps of sugar and creamer in, which was how he liked it. As she arranged a plate of eggs and bacon, Ron stumbled down the stairs. "I smelled food," he murmured, making her laugh.

Hermione grabbed a fork and placed the plate on the table, as well as the coffee. "Well, then you better come down. I made eggs and bacon," she commented. He nodded appreciatively and sat at the table, digging into his food immediately.

Ron frowned as Hermione sat down next to him. "Aren't you going to eat?" he asked through a mouthful of food. She reached her hand over and shut his lips as he knew she hated when he talked with food in his mouth, but was too tired to realize.

She shook her head a little bit. "I'm not hungry right now," she answered truthfully. Sometimes she was hungry in the morning, but other times she wasn't. Ron grew to accept this, though he didn't like it. She did, however, stand up and pour a cup of coffee for herself, not adding anything in.

The only times she ever drank coffee was when she was worried or when she had had a particularly bad night. Ron didn't know which applied here, so he swallowed his mouthful as she joined him again. "How's your dad?"

Hermione seemed to hesitate slightly, staring into her mug of black coffee. "He's fine. The doctors-Muggle Healers-seem to think that he's getting better, actually, so that's a good sign," she shrugged. It had been a shock when she broke the charm on her parents, travelling all the way to Australia to retrieve them, only to find that her father had been diagnosed with terminal cancer.

With a nod, Ron shoved more eggs into his mouth, remembering how devastated Hermione had been when her parents informed her of the cancer. It had taken him weeks to convince her that it wasn't her fault and that it was just an unfortunate turn of events. Of course, she hit him for that.

Ron extended one hand, grabbing hers and holding it on the table. Her hand was fisted tight, and he massaged her knuckles with his thumb, causing them to loosen the tiniest bit. "It's going to be okay," he assured her.

"Ronald…" she sighed. "When have our lives ever been 'okay'?" she inquired, but she couldn't help the small smile on her face as her hand opened completely. He just laughed lightly, giving her a wink.

She stood up and crossed over to the window, opening it. She saw Ron's tiny owl, Pigwidgeon, carrying a letter twice his size. He crash landed on the table but stood up at once, hooting happily. Ron untied the letter from his leg as Hermione gave the owl some treats before it flew off again. "Bloody hell…" Ron muttered, catching his girlfriend's attention. "They're calling me into work early."

The smile faded from Hermione's face at his words. He wasn't supposed to go in until later and today was her one day off, so she had kind of been hoping for some time together. However, the auror office couldn't wait. "When do they want you?" she asked with a sigh.

"Five minutes ago," he answered, pushing his plate away and running upstairs to change. Hermione proceeded to clean off the plate, frowning to herself. Ron returned just one minute later, looking hassled. He hugged her and gave her a quick peck on the lips. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

She nodded, pursing her lips as she returned her attention to scrubbing the plate and hearing the crack that meant her boyfriend had apparated away. Pig returned with another letter just five minutes later, though it felt like an hour had passed with her sitting at the table and taking occasional sips of her coffee.

She untied the note attached to the owl's leg, fed him a treat, and began reading the letter. It was small and the handwriting definitely belonged to Harry.

 _Hermione,_

 _I'm sorry the auror office called Ron in, they called me in as well. They want us to go on a small mission, nothing big. Don't worry. Ginny will be coming over in a few hours to explain._

 _Harry._

Hermione crumpled the note up and tossed it in the waste bin, trying to blink back tears. She loathed it when Ron went on missions, especially when they were dangerous. She didn't quite believe when Harry said it was nothing big, because he seemed to think that fighting a basilisk was also 'nothing big'.

With a withheld sigh, Hermione began to clean off the counters, which were littered with crumbs and feathers as Pig almost always had crash landings. She cleaned them daily, but she knew that there was always a mess the next day. After the counters, she proceeded to the living room, though that room was hardly ever messy. All she had to pick up was Ron's copy of _The Daily Prophet_ that he had read yesterday.

She glanced at the headline, and saw that it was nothing of any importance to her. She checked all of the other rooms before settling down in the living room with a good Muggle book and waiting for the time to pass by.

She was almost finished when she heard the crackle of the fire and Ginny appeared in the living room. She placed her book on the couch and walked over, giving Ginny a hug. "Hey," she greeted Ginny warmly.

Ginny smiled a little bit. "Hi," she replied. "Harry wanted me to come over and keep you company since everyone knows you hate when Ron is away," she explained as the two of them sat on the sofa together, Hermione looking anxious as Ginny just gazed around the room nonchalantly.

"Also, he wanted me to explain about why they were called in," she added hastily, finally resting her eyes on Hermione's face and reading the concern etched there. "It's not too bad. They just need to investigate a warehouse that the Death Eaters were reported to have been hiding in. It's no reason to worry, though," she covered quickly.

Hermione gaped at her, not quite comprehending at first. "Ginny, it's every reason to worry! You and I both know how dangerous Death Eaters are, and we have both witnessed their cruelty. Or haven't you forgot?" she hissed, motioning to the scar on her neck from Bellatrix's knife as well as the other scars that dotted her body.

Ginny was no longer smiling. "I haven't forgotten. How could I forget? You're just underestimating our boys. I mean, they have done far worse than deal with Death Eaters. Don't you remember Voldemort? Or how about the basilisk? What about the Triwizard Tournament?" Her voice was dangerously calm.

There was a pause as tears gathered in Hermione's eyes and threatened to spill. "Those were all Harry…" she whispered softly. "Ron hasn't dealt with anything like that… Harry did all of those," she murmured as the tears began to spill.

"Exactly," Ginny replied. "Harry had done all of those, which are ten times worse than Death Eaters at least. That means, however, that Harry can make sure Ron stays safe while still completing the mission. Do you really think he would let his best mate get maimed or murdered?" Hermione shook her head a little bit, but couldn't stop the streams of tears on her face.

If she was being honest, Hermione was glad Ginny was there to comfort her. She probably would have worked herself up much more than necessary without her best friend there. "I trust Harry…" Hermione admitted, leaning against the sofa more and letting out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

A smile lit Ginny's face. "Good. Now how about we make some lunch?" she offered, giggling slightly as she heard Hermione's stomach complain. "Yeah, you seem hungry," she smirked at the embarrassed look on her friend's face.

Hermione nodded, crossing her arms over her stomach. "Just a little. I might have skipped breakfast," she admitted, avoiding Ginny's gaze.

Ginny shook her head with a good-natured smile on her face. "You have honestly got to stop doing that. It's not good for you and Ron loathes it. He may not say it out loud, but whenever we see each other he always mentions at least once how you don't take care of yourself," she spoke as she spread peanut butter on some bread, snapping her fingers at the table to indicate Hermione to sit down as she tried to help out.

With a resentful look, Hermione trudged over to the table and sat down, scowling as her stomach rumbled again. "I know he doesn't like it. It's not like I do it intentionally, though. Sometimes I'm really just not hungry and other times, if I'm being honest, it feels like I'd puke if I ate anything. It's not my fault," she defended herself, staring at her folded hands in front of her.

"You're right," Ginny agreed, bringing two sandwiches over to the table and placing one in front of Hermione and one in front of her as she sat. "It's not your fault. We all came out of the war pretty bad, and we all have our scars. Deep down, I know that Ron understands, he just doesn't like it. Kind of like how you are with his missions."

A small smile cracked onto Hermione's face as she couldn't help but agree. "Thanks," was all she could think to say as she took a bite of her sandwich. Ginny grinned, giving a nod and digging into her own sandwich. "So how have you and Harry been?" Hermione broke the silence.

Ginny paused, swallowing the food in her mouth before responding. "We've been great. We've been enjoying marriage, and honestly we've been considering children," she spoke with slight hesitation, wincing as she heard Hermione drop her sandwich.

"Ginny…"

"Not yet, of course!" Ginny covered up. "We just mean in a few years maybe, you know, when we're all settled and everything. We were just considering the future, and we think a few years would be fine. I wanted your opinion, though," she shrugged, finally meeting Hermione's gaze.

Hermione had a shocked look on her face, but it eventually faded into understanding. "Okay, you scared me for a second there. You're twenty years old, Ginny. You need to enjoy your youth while you have it," she advised.

Ginny chuckled slightly. "That being said, let's leave the topic of Harry and I. How are you and Ron? When he's not at work, I mean," she beamed at the blush on her friend's face. "Oh, come on. You two have to be talking about _something_." Hermione didn't reply. "Not even marriage?"

Hermione pulled a face, trying to ignore the redness of her own face. "We…well; we're happy where we are. We don't need to get married to know that we love each other. Ron and I are so close already and we don't need to do anything. We sleep together, isn't that enough?"

There was a pause, before Ginny started giggling. "You mean you two haven't done… _it_ yet?" Apparently, Hermione didn't understand what Ginny meant. Ginny sobered, staring at her friend. "You two haven't had sex?" she inquired, now astonished.

Another pause stretched across the room as Hermione seemed to blush even harder, her face redder than Ginny's hair. "No! Oh, god no!" Hermione gasped, covering her face with her hands. "W-we're only twenty-one, we're trying to wait before we…before we get into stuff like that. All we've really done is snogged, nothing more," she fumbled for words as Ginny laughed harder.

Hermione was saved by the crack that sounded in the air. She jumped out of her seat and nearly flew into the living room, letting out a cry as she tackled Ron to the ground. "Ron!" she gasped, pressing her lips against his. He looked like a deer in headlights. With another crack, Hermione knew that Ginny had gone back home to see Harry.

"Bloody hell, Hermione…" Ron muttered, but he couldn't stop the smile that reached onto his face. He was lying on the floor, Hermione on top of him. "It was a false alarm, a fake sighting. There was nothing there," he reassured her, but she cut him off with more kissing.

Ron struggled to sit up, but eventually managed it with Hermione in his lap. He realized that she had tears on her face, and hoped they were tears of joy. "Then what took you so long?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly.

Her boyfriend sighed, shifting her slightly as he tried to fit into a more comfortable position. "It actually turned out to be a trap, sort of. When we reached the abandoned warehouse, there weren't any Death Eaters, but the warehouse door closed on us and we couldn't get out. No spell would work, and we had to wait for reinforcements to blow open the door after trying to find a way to communicate. We couldn't apparate or disapparate in there, unfortunately."

Hermione nodded, too relieved over his safe return to fret much. She stood up, helping him stand, and hugged his chest as soon as he was upright. "Ginny has been keeping me company, trying to keep my mind off of you. I daresay it didn't work," she beamed at him.

"It still kept you from destroying yourself with worry, so I'd say it did," Ron returned her smile. "Now am I allowed to eat lunch?" he teased, bringing her to the kitchen. She nodded and tried to shove her half-eaten sandwich at him, but he wasn't fooled. "That's yours, isn't it?" She nodded. "Then I'd like it if you finished it."

Ron smiled as Hermione sighed and agreed, but she still made him lunch before continuing to eat hers. Right as she sat down and took a bite, the telephone rang. Ron stared at it, puzzled, as he still didn't understand it, but Hermione took it into the other room. "Hello?" he heard her say.

Two minutes later, she returned to the kitchen, tears in her eyes. She was pulling on her brown coat, taking deep breaths. "Is everything alright?" Ron asked worriedly, standing up and crossing over to her, holding her by her wrists before she could disapparate away.

She hesitated, and then shook her head vigorously. "My dad," she whispered, her voice cracking. "He's in the hospital…" And with that, she freed her hands and disapparated.

 **A/N: Well, that was it. I really hoped you guys liked it, and if you didn't, please let me know so I can know to not waste my time posting more chapters. I'd love it if you all would review, as they help me see how I'm doing. Thanks for reading :).**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I just want to say beforehand that this fanfic was originally created for my own enjoyment and I am only posting it here to share my enjoyment with others. However, anyone who has read any of my previous works knows that I enjoy torturing and hurting my characters. This is because of something emotional where I yearn to be able to help others and having others struggle makes my heart open with empathy and it's a feeling that I savor. I am truly trying my best to write these characters in-character but also paying attention to contributing factors, though I am human. I also live in America so I'm not fully updated on everything in England.**

Ron was feeling extremely concerned for his girlfriend. She spent just about all day and night at the hospital with her dad, and when she wasn't there, she was at work. He only ever saw her at work nowadays, and when he did see her there she looked terrible. Glamour charms couldn't fully cover up the deep, dark circles under her eyes and the paleness of her skin, nor the red puffiness of her eyes. It was obvious she hadn't been eating much, either.

It had been two weeks since her dad had been hospitalized, and while Ron had been visiting her and her dad at the hospital whenever he could and bringing food that she hardly ate, he was also busy due to the auror office beginning to follow a lead. He had asked for this particular day off, though.

He was currently in the kitchen, arranging some food on a couple plates. He had cooked the best he possibly could, making spaghetti, garlic bread, tea, and some treacle tart. He balanced the plates on one hand and held the tea in the other, apparating near the hospital.

He checked in as a visitor and followed the corridor to the room where Hermione's dad was staying. Before he opened the door, though, he stopped as he heard shouting from inside.

"-why can't you do something, anything to help him? Your father, who raised you from birth! You're just going to let him suffer like this? You don't even care!"

"I care, mother! I care about him just as much as you do! He is my father, and I am in just as much pain and stress as you are! You have no idea what I've been through! There is nothing that can help! Not even the wizards have a cure for cancer! I'm sorry, but it's the sad truth!"

"No, I don't know what you've been through! You don't bother to tell me anything! Makes me think that you're just bluffing and you've really been through nothing! Meanwhile I've had my memories maimed by my own filthy daughter! What's the point of having a witch in the family if she's as useless as a rock? It's your bloody fault he's got cancer in the first place!"

With that, Hermione's mother stormed out of the room, ignoring a stricken Ron. He rushed in there as soon as possible, still holding the plates and cup. He placed them down on a table, turning towards Hermione, who was sitting in the armchair next to the bed, sobbing into her hands.

Ron tried to shush her noises, squeezing his arms around her and lifting her, sitting down and settling her on his lap. She shook as she buried her face in his chest, wetting his shirt. "Shh," he cooed softly, holding her against him. Her arms reached up and wrapped around his neck. "Shh, it's okay… It's not your fault… You were trying to protect them when you sent them to Australia, and that's what you did."

She shook her head against him, her body still being wracked with sobs. "It… It is m-my… Bloody f-f-fault…" she mumbled against him, and he just gave her a comforting squeeze, shushing her more.

"It's not," he objected gently. "Hermione, it's not your fault. Your mother's just upset and stressed out, and so are you. Just calm down… That's right…" he murmured as her cries subsided to just shudders. He glanced over at her father, who was lying in the hospital bed, in a medically-induced coma with many machines hooked up to him.

Hermione slowly withdrew so she was staring up at him. He wasn't sure he'd seen her in a worse state. Her eyes were puffy and red, the paleness of her face pronouncing the circles under her eyes even more. She stared up at him, and then pressed her lips to his, hard. He was the one that pulled away, though, bewildering her.

Ron used one hand to lift her chin a little higher, the other still supporting her back. "You look horrible," he told her, making her shake with a choking laugh. "You're losing weight, as well, and fast. I can feel it. You're starving yourself, and I have never been more frightened for you. I brought food, and I want to see you eat it. I tried to make spaghetti, but it's not as good as when you make it. Sorry," he apologized, grabbing the food and showing it to her. "There's also garlic bread, tea, and treacle tart. However, I think I'm regretting the bread as you're starting to look more and more like a vampire," he teased.

She let out what seemed like a mix between a sob and a laugh, but took one of the plates nonetheless. "This is a lot," was all she could think to say. He had, indeed, covered the whole plate in spaghetti.

"I know," he responded. "But you don't have to eat it all now. It's supposed to cover a few days; you can always ask the staff to heat it up." He smiled as she dug into the food with a plastic fork, obviously ravenous. Ron laughed at the fast pace she ate. "Don't give yourself a stomachache now," he warned and she slowed, looking slightly guilty. He rubbed her back with a grin. "Happy birthday," he told her.

Hermione stared up at him with wide eyes. "Is it?" she asked in wonder. She had lost track of the days a long time ago. She set the plate down as he nodded, looking at him with an innocent look on her face. "I hadn't realized. No wonder the staff seemed a little more cautious today. I just figured they thought he would-"she paused. "You know…"

Ron nodded again, turning her on his lap and placing his hands on her shoulders, beginning to massage them after realizing how knotted up and tense they were. A moan escaped her lips and he intensified his massaging, beaming at the moans of pleasure he heard occasionally. He leaned closer to her instinctively.

"You are the most beautiful and amazing person I have ever had the fortune of meeting, and I hate to think of you holed up in here. How about you come home tonight, for just one night?" he whispered in her ear.

Hermione nodded numbly, willing to succumb to any request of his as long as he kept working his magic on her shoulders. Her eyes were closed as she murmured in appreciation. She hated to break his wonderful grasp, but she turned towards him and held his arm with one hand, the other grasping the plates and tea as she disapparated back home.

It wasn't a good idea to let her do the disapparating, however, as she was so exhausted that they appeared right in the middle of the road, where a car swerved suddenly to avoid them and ran into a streetlight pole.

She gasped in horror and retrieved her wand out of her pocket. " _Obliviate,_ " she murmured, altering the Muggle's memory first, and Ron took her inside before she could do more and make it worse with her tired spell-casting. He led her to the sofa and she crumbled against him.

If she was being frank, it was hard for her to keep her eyes open. Her fatigue had caught up with her. Ron made sure she was asleep three minutes later before carefully carrying her up the stairs and into their bedroom where he set her down on the bed and began to quietly leave when he heard her voice. "Don't leave me," she spoke, her eyes opening as she shifted, her muscles screaming with every move. "Please."

All resolve that Ron might have had was broken at the way her voice cracked when she said please. He retraced his steps, crawling into the bed and protectively wrapping his arms around her. It was only four in the afternoon but he was glad to stay with her.

She fell back into a slumber immediately, and Ron sighed in relief as her body relaxed against him. His arm was around her and she was holding his hand to her chest, and though her grip relaxed as she slept, Ron didn't have the heart to remove it.

The next morning, Hermione was up before the crack of dawn getting ready to return to the hospital. Ron woke up and stopped her, though. "I still haven't been able to give you your birthday present yet," he complained. She rolled her eyes impatiently as he retrieved the wrapped present. "I have more, but you must have this one first. The others can wait."

He ordered her to sit down on the sofa and she complied as he followed her. "I received a letter from Harold Hugh's the other day, supposedly meant for you. However, when I apparated there, they were saying that what you wanted cost more funds than they owned in their shop. They directed me to Borgin & Burkes and I went there willingly."

Hermione looked confused; she had obviously forgotten all about what she wanted, so Ron continued. "It was quite pricey, costing about half the net worth of our house, but we still have millions of galleons from the Ministry so I was more than willing to buy it." He then gestured to the present that was sitting on her lap, unopened.

She carefully unwrapped the paper and found a stone basin sitting inside. She contemplated it for a few seconds before gasping. It was the Pensieve that she had been looking for. She threw her arms around Ron's neck, kissing him fully on the lips. "Oh Ron, thank you!" she exclaimed. It was the happiest he'd seen her in weeks.

Immediately, her wand was out of her pocket. She pressed it to her forehead, conjuring one of her memories, and extracted it the way that she had read about, dropping it into the basin. Ron watched as she did this a few more times, muttering to herself, before the telephone rang again.

Hermione shot a scared look at Ron as she picked it up and answered. She began to pace, not saying a word, until finally she deflated on the carpet, nodding and murmuring something into the device before pressing a button and placing it on the floor next to her.

Ron approached her anxiously, sitting next to her. She was staring at the wall, tears prickling in her eyes. She didn't need to say anything; he already knew what the doctors had said. Before he could comfort her, though, the telephone rang once more. Hermione picked it up before Ron was able to snatch it away.

Immediately, a voice sounded on the other end, loud enough that Ron could hear as well. "You useless, filthy excuse for a daughter! He's dead! He's dead now because of you! It's your entire fault! Hermione Jean Granger, you killed your father! You bloody killed him you worthless toad! It's your fault your father's dead! Your fault! If you had just left us alone and not erased our memories, we would be perfectly happy! Or even, if you had left our memories altered, we would have been ecstatic!"

Ron wouldn't hear any more of it. He ripped the phone from Hermione's grasp and threw it with all his might at the wall before he turned to Hermione. She was still staring at the wall with a blank expression on her face, though there were silent tears running down her cheeks. Ron had met her mother before now and she seemed a wonderful woman, but he had been able to notice the hotheadedness that seemed very dangerous.

He pulled Hermione into his chest, knowing that she had been in an extremely rough state and that her mother likely just made it worse. However, she fought against him and stood up. "I'm going to work early…" she mumbled numbly, disapparating before he could say anything.

Without a moment's hesitation, he also apparated away, appearing just a few feet away from her mother's house. He glanced around to make sure no Muggles saw him before approaching the door and knocking on it. He was furious with Hermione's mum, but he knew that he had to remain calm because shouting would just make it worse.

It took a minute for Hermione's mum, Jean Granger, to answer, but once she did, Ron saw that she was in no better state than Hermione. She seemed shocked that he was there, especially considering just minutes ago she was screaming at her daughter. "Good morning Mrs. Granger," he said. "May I come in?"

She nodded, opening the door wider and beckoning him inside. She led him to the couch and motioned for him to sit while situating herself in a leather chair across from him. "If you're here about what I said to Hermione, I want you to know that I instantly regretted it and-"

"I know," he interrupted her. "I know you did. But I'm pretty sure both of you are too stubborn to apologize, so I've come to help." Jean didn't respond. "I want you to know what happened all while Hermione was at Hogwarts. Every last detail of it. Get comfortable because this is going to be a long story," he warned her and she nodded.

He began with her trying to help Neville find his toad. Jean proved to be a great listener, much like Hermione. Two hours later, he was nearly done when she piped up, suggesting she go and make some tea. He politely agreed, as his throat was definitely aching. She returned with two cups, prompting him on where he left off.

"And so, Bellatrix told the Death Eaters to lock Harry and I in the dungeons while she interrogated Hermione." He paused, closing his eyes briefly. "Her screams could be heard loud and clear from where we were. It was the Cruciatus Curse, the torturing one. When the house-elf, Dobby, appeared…" he continued on, ignoring the horrified looks on Jean's face.

When he finished, an awkward silence befell the both of them. Jean's hand was covering her mouth and she looked horrified. "I… I didn't know…" she whispered. Ron simply nodded, understanding on his own face.

He stood up, placing his tea on the table. "I know you didn't, and I figured you ought to have. I must be going now, though. I've got to get to work and I'll talk to Hermione while I'm there," he assured her. She shrieked as he disapparated out of her house, ending up in the auror office in the Ministry, his sudden appearance making Harry jump and Pig, who was sitting on Harry's desk, hoot excitedly.

"You're late," Harry mumbled. "But it's okay, I won't tell Dawlish," he grinned at the relieved look on Ron's face as the redhead collapsed in his chair, turning to face his desk. "So, uh, Hermione looked pretty scary when she came in. I mean, she's usually visibly exhausted or upset and this time she just looked devoid of emotion. What happened?" he inquired, turning to look at Ron skeptically.

Ron busied himself by scratching his signature on a form that he was supposed to turn in an hour ago to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Hermione's department. He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Her dad passed away," he answered bluntly. "And she's rowing with her mum," he added.

Harry paused, taking in the information. "Oh," was all he said. He knew that Hermione preferred to avoid her personal problems rather than confront them. "Well, either way I feel bad for her assistant," he confessed with a laugh. Ron silently agreed, nodding his head.

"Let's divert this conversation. How're we doing on the Surrey lead? Anything new?" he asked, rifling through the stack of papers on his desk. The form for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was not his top priority, and he figured they'd send someone if it was important. Apparently they needed the signatures of the entire auror office.

He reached a letter within his pile and retrieved it from the stack. "No. Nothing new," Harry replied, but Ron wasn't paying attention anymore. He was frowning at the letter. After reading it through, he made an exasperated noise. "What?" Harry inquired, catching the letter as Ron threw it at him. Harry straightened it and began to read.

 _Ronald,_

 _Your father and I have been thinking, and it's been nearly a year since you last visited. We were determining that you owe it to us to visit for a few days either this week or the next. And by all means, bring Hermione. We have Charlie's old room all ready for you for whenever you choose to come, and trust me Ronald, you will be coming. We will also be having George and Angelina over and maybe even Harry and Ginny, but currently Ginny is in Austria with the Holyhead Harpies so that's not very likely. Right. So we'll see you either Saturday or Sunday then._

 _Mum._

Harry couldn't help but grin at the horrified look on Ron's face. "Actually, Ginny is at home, we just told her that Ginny was in Austria to give her a break, but that's beside the point. You're bloody doomed," he warned his best mate, laughing as Ron tossed his arms up in defeat.

Ron banged his head on his desk once. "I know I am. It's only Thursday, I've got a whopping total of three bloody days before I'm stuck in the nuthouse again," he complained. He loved the Burrow, he really did, but sometimes it could get a bit wild and he knew Hermione often felt overwhelmed there, having grown up as an only child.

After a pause, where Ron could hear Harry writing on some parchment, Ron returned to his small pile and began to sift through some more of them, only pausing to frown every now and then when he found papers that actually belonged to Dawlish, the Head Auror. Dawlish had a tendency to shove all of his work onto Ron's desk to let the minor take care of it.

Dawlish was not very fond of Ron for reasons he didn't think even Dawlish knew. The only reasons he hadn't fired Ron yet was the facts that Harry stood up for him and the amazing scores Ron had earned in his auror training and exams. In fact, fighting Dark wizards seemed to be one of the only things he was good at.

Ron retrieved a piece of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink from inside one of his desk drawers. He began scribbling a letter to his mother, claiming that Hermione was sick, which in some ways, she was.

He whistled and Pig immediately left Harry's desk in favor of Ron's. Ron tied the letter to his tiny owl's leg. "Take this to my mum, now," he murmured. Harry looked at him quizzically and Ron sighed. "I told her that Hermione's sick."

Harry smirked at his friend, knowing that the excuse would never work. "Good luck with that. Your mum seemed really tense in her letter and I don't think she's going to take no for an answer," he cautioned, and Ron nodded, sighing again.

"I know," Ron agreed. "But a man can dream, right?"

Harry merely grunted, focusing on a pile of paperwork that was at least an inch high on his desk. Ron watched the tunnel that owls used to reach the outside world from the auror office. From the outside it looked like a hollow hole in a tree that actually led into the Ministry.

Almost immediately, Pig flew back, carrying a much smaller letter this time. Ron took it from him, feeding a few owl treats to his bird before actually addressing the letter itself. _Unless she is on her deathbed or highly contagious, I think it would be gentlemanly of you to come tomorrow!_ Was all it said.

There was a pause as Ron reread it over and over. "Bloody hell, mate…" he groaned. "She said that I have to come _tomorrow_ unless Hermione is on her deathbed or highly contagious-"

"-And, unfortunately for you, I'm not either of those." Both Harry and Ron jumped at the sound of Hermione's voice. She entered the office and marched over to Ron's desk. She snatched the form off of said desk, checked that it had the signature of everyone, and stored it in the binder that she carried. "And personally, I think a trip to your parents' house would be lovely," she snapped at Ron, looking quite intimidating as her hair was up in a tight bun and there was not a single wrinkle on her blouse.

Honestly, she reminded Ron of McGonagall, though he'd never admit it to her. He knew that he had offended her in some way by the dark look on her face. "Look, Hermione…" he began, standing up and placing his hands on her upper arms. She held his gaze levelly, even though he was taller than her even with her wearing heels.

He was going to continue, but didn't know what to say. She spoke instead, interrupting whatever he was thinking of. "I don't want to hear it. Whatever you think will fix this; I don't want to hear it."

Ron's jaw set, he stared down at her, his blue eyes locked on her beautiful brown ones. "I talked to your mum." This actually seemed to catch her off-guard, and her mouth fell open temporarily, before she regained her composure with a darker look than before.

"Did you?" She stopped, narrowing her eyes slightly. "And what did you do, decide that you're siding with her, that it really is my fault that my father died and I couldn't save him?" Her voice was probably icier than Antarctica, making Ron shudder softly as Harry pretended to not hear anything that they were saying, scratching his quill on a piece of parchment.

Ron knew that this wasn't really Hermione talking. He knew that she was just extremely upset and fatigued. He tried to remind himself that as he felt his temper rising. He took a deep breath, forcing his voice to remain calm. "No. I know it's not your fault. I talked to your mum and told her everything that happened at Hogwarts. Everything."

Now, Harry was paying attention, staring at Ron with his mouth slightly ajar. Hermione's eyes were wide with shock, and then hatred. "I gave you no permission to do that! There was a reason I didn't tell my mother, you bloody idiot!" she shrieked, storming out of the room with paper in hand.

The silence was broken by Harry, who was staring at Ron. "As I said before… You're bloody doomed, mate," he said, actually making Ron laugh a little bit.

Ron slumped into his chair. "Honestly, I had been expecting her to shout. She'll thank me later when a mother-daughter relationship is healed. But for now… I guess I'll be sleeping on the couch tonight," he concluded with a sigh.

No more needed to be exchanged between the two of them as Dawlish lumbered his way inside, plopping down at his own desk. Ron was busy filling out Sudoku puzzles as he had nothing else to do. When he was let off of work, it was nearly midnight.

He apparated back home and instinctively trudged upstairs, throwing his shoes off in his room and turning towards his bed before realizing Hermione was asleep on it. He hesitated, not knowing how well she'd react to him coming into bed after a row when she was in such a messy state.

He turned on his heel, tiredly grabbing a blanket and pillow from the closet, and thundered back downstairs as silently as he could, but it was difficult. He lied down on the sofa, stretching out so his legs reached over the side and wedging a pillow under his head. He was about to pull the blanket over him when a voice interrupted him.

"Aren't you coming up to bed?"

Ron turned his head and saw Hermione standing at the foot of the stairs, her arms crossed over her chest. She was wearing a tank top and thin sleep pants, like she always did. Her voice had been quiet, but he had heard her loud and clear.

"I didn't know that you'd want me to. I'd figured you were mad at me," he answered truthfully, sitting up as he looked at her.

Hermione bit her lip, meeting his gaze with an unreadable expression on her face. She seemed to choose her next words carefully. "I'm not mad. I was just shocked that you had done that behind my back." The pause that followed seemed to last hours. "I don't like it when we row… I'm just stressed… Can you forgive me?"

Ron stared at her in bewilderment. She was asking him if he could forgive her. However, he didn't see anything to forgive her for. Apparently his contemplating was worrying her, as a crease appeared in her forehead. "The real question is, can you forgive me?" he inquired, standing up and approaching her.

She nodded slowly. It was obvious that she was very relieved at his lack of rejection. She didn't say anything, though. Instead, she just grabbed his hand in hers and began to lead him up the stairs. They reached their room and Hermione crawled into bed first, Ron following suit and hesitantly wrapping his arms around her.

When she didn't object, he tightened his hold, pressing their bodies together. His arms were wrapped around her sides, resting on her back, and after a few moments, he began to massage her back, remembering how much she loved when he loosened her shoulders at the hospital.

Immediately a light moan escaped her and she buried her face in his chest, feeling the muscles in her back begin to relax, whereas they used to be tighter than the roots of the Whomping Willow. "We can start packing for your parents' house tomorrow morning. My boss gave me the next three days off after she saw me. I didn't want the break, but she insisted."

Ron chuckled lightly, pressing down on the muscles in her back harder. "I can imagine. I'll still be working, but I do have tomorrow off. I work 8 am-4 pm on Saturday and 6 pm-midnight on Sunday," he informed her.

She nodded against him, but he knew that she was half asleep and probably only heard a portion of what he had said. That didn't bother him, however, and he just settled down, falling asleep not too long after Hermione.

 **A/N: I do hope that wasn't too bad ;-;. Please comment what you thought of the chapter so I may improve my writing :).**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This chapter might make a few people a bit uncomfortable... I know it kind of made me uncomfortable to write. Therefore, I made it longer than my other chapters. I hope that makes up for the awkwardness in this one ;-;.**

The next morning, Hermione woke up around eight in the morning and opened her eyes to find that the entire left side of the bed was empty. She stood up, swaying a little bit on her feet out of bleariness, and rubbed her eyes, sliding on a pair of slippers and carefully descending the steps.

She found Ron sitting in the middle of the living room, fitting a stack of clothes within a tiny bag that was no doubt magically expanded on the inside. He turned his gaze to her once he heard her slippers hit the floor. "You're up," he noted. "And you're looking a lot better and well-rested," he added with a smile.

It was true. Some of the color had returned to her face and the circles under her eyes weren't as pronounced. "I feel a lot better and well-rested," she agreed, still standing at the foot of the stairs.

Ron beamed at her, and she returned the smile. "That reminds me," he remembered, pointing towards the kitchen. "There's some breakfast waiting for you in the microwave. I put it in there to keep it from losing too much heat," he explained, unaware that he needn't have. He returned to stacking the clothes in the bag and was surprised to feel Hermione's arms wrap around him from behind as she kneeled down. He had expected her to go eat.

Hermione pressed her cheek against his back, her hands interlocking over his stomach. "You are the best boyfriend I could have ever asked for," she murmured, unable to keep the slightest hint of wonder out of her voice. She had not expected all this when she came down here, and it was a pleasant shock.

She could feel him chuckle as he turned towards her, not breaking her grasp but making it so her hands were entwined over the small of his back. She looked at him as he kissed the top of her head. "Always the tone of surprise," he grinned at her, and she returned it. "Now, go on and eat. You may look better, but you're still highly emaciated," he informed her.

Ron just smirked at the look of annoyance she shot him, but even that didn't last long and a small smile returned to her face. She still cuffed him lightly over the head as she stood up and crossed into the kitchen, retrieving the plate of pancakes out of the microwave. They were still warm, and she sat down at the table, where maple syrup already sat, waiting for her.

As Hermione dug into her food ravenously, Ron finished packing everything into the little bag, tossing it on the counter, where he knew Hermione would grab it before they left. He had considered coming at night, but then realized that his mother would probably scream furiously at him.

Hermione finished and washed her plate off, retiring upstairs to shower quickly before returning to Ron downstairs, who had already showered previously, before making breakfast. She snatched the bag from off of the counter, swinging it onto her shoulder and grabbing Ron's hand as she brushed her hair with her free hand and he shoved his wand into his pocket, whereas it had previously been sitting on the counter.

As soon as they were both ready, they apparated a mile from the Burrow, as protective enchantments kept them from apparating any closer, albeit people were able to disapparate away. Neither of them complained about this, though Ron wore an exasperated look and Hermione seemed annoyed.

However, she somehow convinced Ron to run all the way to the Burrow with her, insisting that he had to work out more often. He wasn't reluctant because of his welfare, though, but instead because of Hermione's. Her body was already in disrepair, and though she had been gaining weight back, he didn't want that to all go to waste.

Ron considered mentioning it, but then realized that she might take offense and shied away from the idea of her yelling at him or working extra hard. Matters were made worse as rain began to fall, fast and hard, right as she finished persuading him. She didn't seem to notice the rain as she suddenly took off in a full sprint in the direction of the Burrow. Ron had no choice but to follow.

The whole run, Ron was at least two meters behind, speed never being much of strength for him. Only halfway in, though, Hermione came to an abrupt stop, stumbling on numb feet as she leaned one hand against a tree, the other clutching a stitch in her sighed as she panted, wheezing. Ron caught up, also breathing heavily, and stopped right next to her, also clutching his sides.

He was thankful for the break, and by now they were both soaked to the bone, the rain having picked up considerably. Ron had figured out by now that the only reason Hermione had wanted to run is because she wanted to get there faster, but he could tell that she was regretting it around now.

Hermione blinked raindrops out of her eyes, her entire body aching and her face as pale as the moon. She was finding it harder and harder to breathe properly and her world swayed, and though she sort of admitted that she wished she hadn't forced him to run, she had seen the heaviness in the clouds and known that rain was on its way, concluding that she would prefer to attempt to not be too wet.

Ron rubbed her back supportively as she coughed, still wheezing slightly. "Sorry," she gasped, trying to control her breathing. "I just needed a… a moment," she explained, standing up fully again and looking at Ron while trying to ignore the persistent, taunting rain. Somehow, the droplets reminded her of Peeves. "Come on," she urged, taking off again, though a little slower than before.

This time, Ron was able to keep up fairly well, and it was around eight to ten minutes later when they reached the Burrow. Although they didn't say it out loud, both were more than relieved to see the misshapen building a mere three meters away.

Their clothing clung to their bodies as they approached the door, but it swung open before they even reached it. Molly Weasley came bursting out of the house, immediately enveloping them both in a hug. "Oh, they're here!" she called back to the house, where Arthur Weasley, George Weasley, and Angelina Johnson were waiting near the doorway.

Molly propelled the stricken couple inside, ordering George to fetch some towels. "You poor dears, you're absolutely _drenched!_ " she fretted. "If we'd had known when you were coming, we would have lifted the enchantments for an hour or so, and now you're all wet!"

Ron was at least glad that his mother wasn't yelling at him as she hugged him and kissed his forehead. "Oh, my sweet little Ronniekins," she gasped. "I remember when you were still a little babe, and now you've grown so much!" She held his face in her hands, making him protest and Hermione giggle.

She immediately wished she hadn't because that drew Molly's attention to her, and the elder enveloped Hermione in a bone crushing hug, nearly lifting her off the ground. "Hermione, dear, you're so dreadfully thin! You look awful!" Molly was rambling, pressing a hand to Hermione's caved-in belly, making the younger flinch back.

Molly stopped and placed her hands on Hermione's shoulders, looking the younger right in the eyes. "Tell me the truth now. Has Ronald been treating you badly or starving you in any way?" she inquired in a low voice, but Ron had been listening in and heard, looking astonished that his mother would think so.

Hermione's expression matched his, her eyes portraying bewilderment. "Oh, no, nothing like that at all!" she assured Molly. "I've just been going through a rough patch in my life and Ron's been trying to help me, but there's only so much that can be done…" she trailed off as George returned with the towels, a full-sized one for Hermione and, just to mess with his youngest brother, a kid one for Ron that used to be Ginny's.

As the two gratefully accepted the towels, Ron with a little more contempt, Molly's attention remained on Hermione. After all, as a mother, she hated to see children suffer, and despite the fact that Hermione was 22 and Ron and Harry were both 21, she still considered them children. "Is there anything I can do, anything at all?" she seemed desperate to help.

There was a pause as Ron and Hermione exchanged a look before the latter sighed. "Not unless you can bring back the dead," she replied, trying but failing to keep the hopelessness out of her voice.

"Oh, dear, what happened?" Molly seemed devastated to hear that someone Hermione cared about had left.

Hermione's gaze was fixed on the ground. "My dad," she responded, trying to sound brave and nonchalant about it. Arthur let out a breath and Angelina bit her lip and slid her hand into George's. George just stared at Hermione. There was an awkward silence. "But that doesn't matter. My mum and I have to decide a date for the, uh, the funeral. Never mind. Can we just… just change the subject?" she asked hopefully, looking at Molly's concerned face.

Molly nodded sympathetically, which irked Hermione the tiniest bit though she ignored it. "Well, let's at least get some food in you. If you're gonna be a Weasley, you've gotta have just a little more meat on those bones."

Both Ron and Hermione were taken aback, but Molly didn't notice, beckoning the whole family into the kitchen, where a plethora of food was at the table. "This is just for lunch. We'll have a bigger feast at dinner," she exclaimed excitedly.

Thirty minutes later, Ron finished his lunch, feeling quite full, and noticed his mother still trying to shove food onto Hermione's plate while the latter refused politely. He noted that his girlfriend looked miserable, and thought that he ought to save her. "Mum, Hermione and I are going to take our stuff upstairs to the room we'll be sharing," he said, gesturing to the bag Hermione was still holding.

Hermione seemed visibly relieved when Ron grabbed her wrist and led her up the stairs, not saying anything until they reached the room and closed the door. "Thanks," she breathed out, sitting neatly on the bed and setting the small bag on the ground. Ron crossed over and sat next to her, encircling her shoulders with one arm.

"You looked a little overwhelmed back there. I figured that it would be the gentlemanly thing to rescue you," he teased lightly, and she nodded while leaning her head on his shoulder. "Was she like that the whole time?"

She closed her eyes briefly, nodding again. "She was relentless. I mean, Ron, I love your mother; you know I do, but she can be a bit much sometimes if I'm being honest. She couldn't quite understand when I said I was full, and even then she forced some food down my throat," she informed him, knowing all too well that he was probably too invested in his own food to notice.

Ron removed his arm from her shoulders and reached around her side, his hand resting on her stomach. He could feel the difference; it wasn't quite as hollow as it had been an hour ago and although it was good for her, he couldn't help feeling bad for her. He gently pressed down on her stomach and she groaned in pain. "You're gonna make me puke," she muttered.

He removed the pressure, planting a kiss on the top of her head. "That bad, huh?" he asked, and she nodded, closing her eyes. He leaned his head down so his mouth was close to her ear. "There's only six more hours until dinner," he warned her, making her groan again in pain and dread. Then he frowned. "My mum would have more sense than that, though, don't you think? There's something… odd about her…" he mused, and Hermione nodded.

One hour later, they found themselves with Ron sitting back against the bedpost with Hermione stretched over his lap on her back with a book in her hand. Ron had one hand under the rim of Hermione's shirt, gently caressing her belly, the other tapping a light tune. His eyes were closed as he delved into his thoughts. He figured he'd ask to use her Pensieve when they got back home.

Neither of them realized exactly when they fell asleep, they both just remembered succumbing to the quiet stillness that was ever so seldom in the Weasley house. At six o'clock on the dot, George burst into the room, waking them up. "Come on, lovebirds," he called, the two stirring in reply. George had taken the death of Fred harshly, but had regained his fun side whenever his twin wasn't mentioned.

Hermione sat up and rubbed her eyes. Ron muttered something about ducks and clowns to George with a sour tone as he also wiped sleep off of his face. "Feeling better?" he murmured to Hermione, who shrugged in reply. She could hardly feel the dull ache anymore.

George flickered the light on and off repeatedly. "Come on, you lazy children. It's dinnertime," he grinned. He exited after that, leaving them alone.

With an exasperated sigh, Hermione leaned back on Ron, forcing him to fall over backwards with her on top of him. "And I was just started feeling better, too," she said dejectedly, Ron's hand tangling in her hair. "Can we just say I died in a well?" she suggested jokingly as Ron pushed her up.

Ron chuckled, a smirk crossing his face as he turned her towards him and planted a kiss on her lips. "Unfortunately, no. My mum seems to think everyone has a Weasley appetite. However, if you find a way to casually communicate to me that you'd had enough and felt like you were going to burst, then I won't hesitate to divert my mum's attention."

She nodded sort of numbly, standing up and waiting for Ron before venturing downstairs, smoothing her hair the best she could as she did so. Once everyone was sitting at the table, Molly began to nag Hermione without a moment's hesitation, sometimes pausing when she saw the younger eating, but then badgering her the moment she stopped.

Ron tried to watch what happened, but his food was very alluring. It was hard for him to take his gaze off of the wonderful extravagancies his mum had prepared. After around twenty minutes had passed, his attention was dragged away by a sharp pain in his leg. "Ow," he muttered, looking up and seeing Hermione staring at him while trying to hide the desperation in her gaze.

However, she had to force another bite of salmon down her throat by Molly, and just then was when he remembered what he had promised. He looked around the table; George and Angelina had already finished. "Uh, Mum. I think Hermione and I are going to go to bed a little early tonight. I'm heading into work in the morning tomorrow and we'd like to spend a little time together, if you know what I mean."

Molly was too taken aback to argue as Ron dragged Hermione by the hand upstairs, though he needn't have since she was practically skipping up the steps, two at a time. The moment they reached their room, she collapsed on the bed. Ron closed the door as Hermione closed her eyes, crossing her arms tightly over her aching stomach.

Ron approached the bed and bent over her, his hands on either side of her neck, supporting him. "You have honestly got to have a better resolve than that. You need to tell her straight up that you feel like you're going to vomit. I can't really help you tomorrow when I'm going to be at work. I mean, I can persuade Angelina to come to your rescue if things become too much, but Merlin knows George would agree with Mum," he told her.

Hermione nodded slightly. She released one of her arms, the hand attached reaching up and covering her mouth as she swore it was just a matter of time until she puked. Ron noticed she looked a little green and leaned down, kissing her forehead. "I know," she muttered behind her hand. "But if I'm being honest, your mum scares me," she confessed.

"My mum scares everyone," Ron commented with a laugh, making her hit his arm with her free hand before covering her sore stomach again. However, Ron used one hand to remove her arm, ignoring her objections. He snaked his hand up her shirt, the other holding him up as he began to apply the tiniest amount of pressure as he caressed it again.

She let out a groan, but he could tell that she was enjoying it. As he exerted more pressure and her groans turned to whimpers of painful pleasure, he slowly let himself fall onto her, the feel of her body against his extremely wonderful. He pressed his lips against hers but they couldn't hold it long as she was grunting with every breath she took, trying to cope with Ron's added weight on top of her.

Ron wrapped his arms around her back and rolled so she was now laying on top of him. They knew that they wouldn't get any farther than simply snogging the hell out of each other, but they were both very content with that. After a few minutes, Hermione flung herself off of him, seemingly upset. "What did I do?" Ron asked innocently, turning on her side to look at her as she stared furiously up at the ceiling.

Hermione jumped out of the bed quickly and immediately regretted it as she doubled over, breathing hard. "You didn't do anything," she mumbled once she'd regained her composure and was standing straight again, her arms tightly folded over her stomach. "I'm just… I just don't think it is really the time for this. And I was sort of thinking…" she trailed off, blinking tears back.

Ron stood up as well, placing his warm hands on her upper arms. He leaned his forehead against hers. "What were you thinking, Hermione?" he inquired quietly, rubbing her arms softly.

She sighed, looking him in the eyes. "I want to go home. With you. I want us to go home where you're the only one who has to eat with a Weasley appetite, and that's because you choose to. Do you reckon-"

Her words were interrupted by Molly's call for dessert, and Hermione shot Ron a fearful glance. He frowned, brushing some of her hair out of her face. "I'll talk to my mum at the table. I don't want you eating another bite meanwhile," he commanded as they slipped downstairs and sat at the table once again.

Hermione went against his orders, immediately taking a bite of the generous helping of chocolate cake that Molly heaped onto her plate. She knew that Molly would only divert her attention if she saw Hermione eating. Hermione took two more bites, despite the facts that she had never really been a fan of sweets and the chocolate cake was extremely rich and heavy.

Ron continually tried to catch his mother's attention, but she shushed him every time. He exchanged a guilty look with Hermione before persisting on. Hermione could only stomach around two more bites of the huge, heavy piece of cake before she suddenly stood up, exiting without a word.

Molly stared after her, bewildered. Ron took this as his chance to speak up. "Mum, Hermione and I talked about it and as much as we'd like to stay," he began, ignoring the piercing look from his mum, "we really wish we could be alone, at home."

"Ronald, you were starving her! You're not taking very good care of her!" she screeched, leaving her son speechless. His mum would have been furious, but she would have understood what she was doing to Hermione. He searched her face for any sign of unusualness. Hermione returned and sat down, trembling slightly and looking white in the face. She shot Ron a desperate glance as his mum shoved a huge bite of cake into her mouth, nearly making her puke again.

There was a clatter as Ron stood up abruptly, kicking his chair away. "We're leaving before you make her vomit any more of the junk you shove down her bloody throat," he muttered, taking Hermione's hand and disapparating away, all the way back home.

The moment they reached their house, he knew that it probably would have been smarter to use the Floo network as Hermione escaped to the nearest bathroom. Ron followed with a sigh, sitting down next to her and holding her hair back as she puked into the toilet.

"I'm sorry," he told her, defeated. "I should have thought about it sooner, but it just didn't cross my mind," he continued, using his free hand to supportively pat her shaking back.

She shook her head slightly, waiting until the stream stopped before daring to speak. "I don't blame…you," she murmured through heaves. "You got me away…from there and for…that…I'm grateful…" she managed. She felt awful, but she honestly could have felt worse. At least she had Ron there.

She leaned back after a few solid moments of nothing, wiping her hand on her sleeve. Ron was looking at her with a concerned expression, and she let out a groan and pressed her forehead on his shoulder, provoking him to wrap one arm protectively around her. He didn't care if she was feeling sick, he would still hold her close. She was breathing heavily. "I don't understand…" she murmured, closing her eyes.

Ron hesitated, weighing his options. He finally decided that a few seconds of horrible pain along with one night of unpleasantness was better than several days full of sore, swollen achiness. He turned her back towards the toilet, hushing her as she tried to object. "I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear as he entwined his hands over her stomach and pressed, hard.

Hermione shrieked in pain, but was interrupted by the contents of her stomach gradually but forcefully emptying out through her mouth. Whenever it took a pause, she groaned and whimpered, sometimes begging him to stop, but that just influenced him to squeeze harder. After five full minutes, it had taken a stop again. "Please…" she gulped, gasping for air.

Finally, Ron gave in, turning her towards him and wiping her mouth with a towel as she sobbed into him, somehow understanding his motives. "I'm really, really sorry, Hermione. I hate it as much as you do, trust me," he mumbled in her ear, scooping her up in his arms. He knew that she was still in a lot of pain because of how hard he had pressed on her tender stomach, but he also knew that she'd thank him later.

He carried her into the kitchen, where he levitated a bucket with his wand, which he carried between his teeth, having snagged it off of the counter. He brought the bucket as well as Hermione upstairs as she clutched her belly which was becoming excruciatingly more painful by the second.

Ron laid Hermione on the bed, crawling under the covers himself before holding her shaking form close to him. "Shh... Shh… I know... I know, I'm sorry…" he cooed softly as she sobbed, curled up into him. Ron felt terrible, but he had to keep reminding himself that it was for her own good. "I know… It's okay…"

Hermione was gasping for breath. She knew exactly why he did what he did and although she loathed it, she didn't blame him. He had used his head for once. She heard the increasing worry in Ron's voice as he tried to soothe her, which was quite contradicting. She figured to try and say something as he began to feel tense against her.

After two minutes, she had saved enough breath to say just a few words. "Th-thank…you…" she muttered in appreciation, calming him instantly.

"You're welcome…" he whispered in reply.

The next morning, Hermione woke up to find the other side of the bed empty. She frowned and stood up, blinking back sleep as she ventured out of the room. She slowly walked down the stairs, noticing how much better she felt now. She had easily forgiven Ron for yesterday, after all he helped her escape the Weasleys.

When she reached the bottom, she saw Ron shoving cereal in his mouth, obviously a little late for work. He rushed his bowl to the sink, rinsing it out and grabbing his cup of coffee, walking over to Hermione. "Good morning," he told her a little breathlessly. "Feeling better?" he asked, rifling through a bag.

Hermione nodded, smiling at him. "Very much so. Thanks for using your head for once," she teased, making him smirk. He took a sip of his coffee and grinned at her.

"I'm honestly just surprised you held it in for so long. I mean, what she was feeding you was a feast, even for a Weasley," he commented. "Anyway, I've really got to get to work now, it's five 'til eight. I'll see you later. Love you!" he planted a kiss on her lips and apparated away.

With a small smile, Hermione entered the kitchen and put away the box of cereal that Ron had forgotten about, like he always did. She decidedly skipped breakfast, for her own reasons.

A thought crossed her mind and she retraced her steps, and she reentered the bedroom, taking out the Pensieve from under the bed. It was slightly filled with her thoughts, only about an inch of the silvery-white substance inside. She quickly added two more memories into the basin before Pig flew into her room and crashed into the wall.

He stood up quickly and hooted excitedly, holding his leg out, which had a note attached. Hermione thanked him and took the letter, opening it.

 _Dear Miss Granger,_

 _Since you are currently away on your sick days due to a lack of sleep, you are unaware of a staff change in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Your assistant, Jacob Forner, has quit, claiming about higher pay. Another assistant for you has been hired, and you shall meet her Monday unless, as we all know you, you would like to meet her beforehand. If so, have your owl bring a letter to Number 36, Elliot Avenue._

 _Lilith Bluehorse_

 _Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement._

Hermione was rather shocked. She quickly scribbled a note onto a parchment and sent it with Pig for Number 36, Elliot Avenue. It told her new assistant to come whenever, but sooner would likely be better. The tiny letter sent back contained three words. _Yes, Miss Granger._

She frowned, but rushed into the shower, hoping that once this dreadful but life-changing week was over, things would go back to normal, or, as normal as they get. Once she was done and she had changed into a long-sleeved blouse and jeans, she returned downstairs and sat on the sofa. She made tea, poured a cup, and then retrieved a book from the arm of the furniture and began to read.

Ten minutes later, she heard the crackle of the fire as undoubtedly, her assistant arrived by the Floo network. Hermione looked up and saw a scrawny, black-haired girl looking no older than 20 who seemed absolutely terrified. "Good morning," she told her, standing up. "You must be my new assistant?" The girl nodded quickly, hugging her arms to her chest. "Well, I'm Hermione Granger. And you are?" she inquired, realizing how extremely nervous the girl was.

Hermione gave her a warm smile, but the girl was looking at the ground, avoiding her new boss's gaze. "Teller," she said quietly. Hermione seemed a little confused. "A-Alice Teller, M-Miss Granger," she continued in a low voice, finally looking up at Hermione anxiously.

Withholding a sigh, Hermione simply widened her smile. "You can call me Hermione. Please, sit down," she encouraged her, and Alice sat down immediately, before Hermione did. There was an awkward silence where Hermione tried to ignore the way that Alice was staring at the scar on her neck where Bellatrix's knife had pierced her. "Am I disturbing you?" She broke the silence while reaching for her cup of tea on the coffee table.

Alice shook her head quickly, seeming embarrassed that she had been caught staring. Her cheeks flushed. "N-no… I was just w-wondering if… If it was true that you were… y-you know… t-t-tortured?" she asked, her voice scared and tiny, somehow even more nervous on the last word.

There was a clink as Hermione roughly set her teacup down on the table again, her face devoid of emotion. Her smile had faded and she now folded her hands neatly in her lap. Alice jumped, regretting ever asking, and flinched as Hermione's burning gaze was set on her.

Hermione clenched her teeth together, considering her choices. She tried to distinguish the sense of panic that always filled her when she thought of the Skirmish at Malfoy Manor. "It is true," she replied simply, her voice quavering and her mouth in a tight line. "I… I was put under the Cruciatus Curse," she braved, trying to ignore the dread she felt at the curse's name.

It was obvious that Alice felt bad, judging by the horrified expression on her face. "I am so sorry, M-Miss Granger!" she exclaimed, tears welling up in her eyes. "I-I didn't mean t-to… o-offend y-y-you…" she continued her own voice shaking as a few tears spilled down her pale cheeks.

The tears made any walls of Hermione's crumble immediately. She reached out her hand to comfort her new assistant, and Alice flinched, slightly cowering in fear of retribution. Hermione frowned. "I'm not going to hurt you," she spoke in a quiet, soft voice, understanding on her face. "I was just going to try to comfort you," she admitted semi-guiltily. "I didn't mean to scare you in any way."

Alice nodded tersely, bewilderment on her face. She tried to cover it. "I'm sorry," she apologized miserably, distressed. "I-It's just that my previous bosses w-weren't too nice… They th-threatened me to k-keep my mouth shut, though…" she muttered quietly.

There was immediately silent fury in Hermione's face, and Alice flinched, fearing that she had done something wrong. Hermione was immediately reminded of the injustices that house-elves endured, and the lengths she had to go to with S.P.E.W. in order for things to get better for them. Now, she needed to make things better for her new assistant.

Hermione's expression evolved to cold, hard determination. "We're going to be working together quite a lot from now on. I want one thing to be clear, alright?" Alice nodded quickly, not trusting herself to speak as Hermione continued. "I will never treat you badly. I don't believe in retribution nor anyone dominating over someone else just because they are different. In fact, I despise that. I want you to know that I will never, ever mistreat you. I want us to be friends."

An expression of pure shock crossed onto Alice's face right then. She seemed genuinely, visibly relieved. She looked like she was trying to form words, but was unable to. Hermione smiled at the gratitude portrayed in Alice's light blue eyes.

She knew that her new assistant was speechless, so she decided to change the topic. However, before she could speak, Hermione heard the crackle of the fire and Ginny popped out into the living room, looking rushed and harassed. "Um, I think you should probably go," she informed Alice, standing up. Her assistant nodded and disapparated.

Ginny nearly ran over to Hermione, her bright brown eyes fearful. "Hermione," she began breathlessly. "These two men came to my house disguised as Harry and Ron by means of the Polyjuice potion. I'm fairly certain they were Death Eaters as they tried to kidnap me. I am also fairly certain that they're coming here next, and soon," she said very quickly.

Hermione sighed, having kept pace through it all. "Okay, go hide behind the sofa, and we can attack them together. Do you have your wand?" she inquired, and Ginny nodded, raising it slightly. Hermione drew hers out of her pocket, but hid it behind her as the fire cracked again and Fake-Harry as well as Fake-Ron entered.

The Fake-Ron stepped over to Hermione with a smile on his face. "Hello, sweetheart," he spoke, though she could tell his voice was different, rougher. "Harry and I got let off early and Ginevra wasn't there so I told Harry that he could come home with me. Is that alright?" he asked innocently. He didn't wait for a reply before smashing his lips against hers.

Hermione pulled back instantly, raising her wand at him and shouting " _Stupefy!_ " She watched as he fell to the ground, stunned by the curse. The Fake-Harry growled in anger and retrieved his wand, pointing it at Hermione. " _Cruc-!"_

" _Petrificus Totalus!_ " He was interrupted by Ginny's fierce cry. Fake-Harry went rigid and fell, joining the Fake-Ron on the ground. Hermione was staring down at him, his attempted curse ringing in her ears. She looked visibly shaken and Ginny ran over to her. "Are you alight? He didn't get to finish, did he?"

With a swift nod, Hermione pointed her wand at their two fake lovers. Her hand was shaking, so Ginny quickly batted her friend's hand down and pointed her own wands at the two. " _Incarcerous! Incarcerous!"_ she commanded, ropes enveloping the two men as the Polyjuice potion suddenly began to wear off, and quickly.

The two women grunted as they dragged the Death Eaters into the cupboard under the stairs, propping the bound men against the wall. Ginny realized that Hermione still seemed a little white, so she decided to try to distract her friend. "How about we go write a letter to the auror office? I can go home and grab Penny while you write it," she suggested, mentioning the owl that her and Harry had bought and named Penny.

Hermione nodded once, exiting the cupboard and retrieving a parchment, quill, and bottle of ink. She heard Ginny using the fireplace to Floo away, and realized that she was alone. Her hand trembled as she wrote the letter, explaining what had happened. She could hear one word in her head, being repeated over and over in a very familiar female voice. _Crucio!_ It was Bellatrix's haunting, mystifying voice that she couldn't shake. She reached for the radio on the table, turning it on to a commercial-free station in hopes of distracting herself from the memory of the Torturing Curse.

When Ginny returned, a loud, irritated hooting filled the air. Hermione handed the letter to Ginny and the latter attached it to Penny's reluctantly extended leg. "Take this to the auror office," she told the owl, sending her off. Ginny then turned to Hermione, giving her a small hug. "It's okay. I know what you're thinking about and I want you to stop. Hermione, it's not worth getting yourself worked up over."

Still, Hermione didn't speak, biting her lip and nodding once again. Ginny sighed exasperatedly. Finally, Hermione cleared her throat and spoke. "I'm sorry. I was just caught a little off guard with his attempted spell. It's okay, I've gotten over it," she reassured Ginny. However they both knew that it was a half-lie and while Hermione was caught off guard, she wasn't fully okay with the man who tried to have her tortured again.

Penny returned ten minutes later, carrying a small note. Hermione untied it and read it aloud. " _We would like to express deep disapproval at not contacting the auror office at first thought of Death Eaters, and would encourage you to exercise more caution in the future. Our entire auror team just returned from a short but important mission and will apparate there soon."_

Ginny scowled as Hermione frowned. "They cannot reprimand us for catching them, we have probably faced worse than half of the auror office combined!" Ginny nearly shouted. Hermione didn't object, she just reread the letter a few more times.

Hermione tossed the letter on the counter, sitting down on the sofa. "Calm down. We just need to wait for our boys. Surely they'll be sent to come get them, right? Then we can show them the letter and they'll take it up with the auror office," she reasoned, smirking at the distasteful, sour look that Ginny wore.

There was a crack as suddenly five battered wizards and witches apparated inside the room. There were only two witches and three wizards, two of which were Ron and Harry, who approached their lovers. Both women were shocked, and while Ginny began to snog her husband, Hermione smacked Ron across the face. "Bloody hell!"

A frown was etched into Hermione's features. "You weren't supposed to get bloodied up!" she told him exasperatedly, gesturing to the cuts on Ron's face and arms. "I didn't even know you were on a mission," she continued miserably. She could distinctly hear Ginny directing the other three aurors to the cupboard under the stairs.

They could hear the aurors disapparating with the Death Eaters as Hermione finally enveloped Ron in a hug. "Sorry," he apologized, holding her to him. "We had an urgent letter claiming that a Death Eater was spotted. We caught her, though, and she is currently rotting in Azkaban. With the two that you both were able to handle, we'll have had quite a lot for the day," he explained with a grin as Hermione pulled back and silenced him with a kiss.

 **A/N: Alrighty then. I hope that wasn't too bad. The events in this chapter are leading up to something big in the next chapter. The Death Eaters are planning bigger and, well, 'better' things.**

 **On another note,** _ **everyone**_ **should go read "Dear Fred, I Miss You" by ProcrastinatingRavenclaw001. It is really a powerful fanfiction nd beautifully written, at that :).**

 **Since I'm feeling generous, I'll give you all a hint into next chapter, though. '** _ **Ginny was shocked into silence, her mouth forming a perfect 'O'. She suddenly closed her mouth, her eyes hard. "We need to contact the Ministry, now."'**_


	4. Chapter 4

Ron woke up in the middle of the night, sighing as he checked the time and seeing that it was only one in the morning. He sat up on the edge of the bed, hesitating as Hermione began to shift in her sleep, but luckily she remained asleep.

Ron noticed Hermione's Pensieve on the nightstand beside the bed. He stared at it, feeling the sudden urge to delve into it. He checked behind him to make sure she was still asleep before he slowly lowered his face into the silvery liquid and let the cold substance take him away.

 _The first thing Ron saw as he looked around was a lunchroom full of smiling, laughing Muggles. Ron figured that this was probably the primary school for Muggles. His gaze rested on a young, scrawny girl sitting at a table all alone, moving her food around on her plate. She had bushy brown hair, brown eyes, and was slightly hunched over. With a jolt, Ron realized that he was looking at eight-year-old Hermione._

 _A couple people around them smirked at her, even though they were all around her age. Two bulky boys in particular threw chips and biscuits at her. The larger of the two hit her in the forehead with a piece of chicken. She stood up abruptly, blinking fast. Ron followed as she exited the room, wiping her eyes as she entered the playground._

 _Ron realized that this must be the lunch break, and watched as Hermione wedged herself into a small corner. She dug a textbook out of her bag and began to read, though she was much slower than she is in current time._

 _"_ _There's Filthy Little Bookworm Granger, returning to her rightful spot between the pages," came a male voice that had trouble pronouncing some of the words. The two boys from before were standing in front of Hermione, grinning smugly. Hermione noticed them, but ignored them. "Look at that! She's deaf, too."_

 _Hermione wiped her eyes again and Ron felt like he wanted to punch the boys. However, he knew that he wasn't really there and this already happened. The boys pushed on until Hermione finally cracked, snapping her book closed. "Shut up!" she suddenly shouted at them._

 _The boys laughed at her. "Aw, puny little bookworm. All bark and no bite, right?" one snarled at her. He suddenly quieted though as three large rocks came flying at his face. Hermione seemed just as shocked as the boys. Her hands were still on her book; she obviously didn't throw the rocks._

 _A teacher ran over and shouted at all three of them to go to the headmistress's office. Ron tried to follow them but the scene was fading. It was changing to the girls' lavatory in a Muggle school. Hermione was leaning against the wall, still around age eight. She had obviously just come out of a stall as she still had tears on her face._

 _Ron wanted to comfort the tiny Hermione, but as he wasn't really there, he was unable to. He didn't know what she was crying about, or how she had been hurt, but he knew that he wished he could stop it. He hated to see her cry._

 _Suddenly, the scene changed again. Hermione seemed about ten or eleven in this one as she entered the lunchroom late, looking rushed. She grabbed her food and hesitated as she realized that all of the tables were occupied. She slowly approached one with just a few girls sitting at it and she sat on the very edge, looking nervous as she picked at her food._

 _She had stowed her bag under the bench, and now one of the girls stole it from under there with a smirk. Hermione gasped as the girl extracted her diary from inside. "Give that back!" she squeaked, trying to grab at it._

 _The girl grinned and held it away from its owner. Hermione smacked the girl on the arm and another girl shouted and punched Hermione in the face, hard. The latter recoiled, spitting out a tooth as she ran away, tears in her eyes. Kids were laughing at her as she exited, a couple making rude impressions of her. She was headed to the lavatory, but when she entered, there was already a group of girls in it. "Ew, who let that_ _ **thing**_ _in here?"_

 _Hermione was roughly shoved away. She let out a small, broken noise and immediately escaped into the caretaker's closet. Ron followed, frowning and feeling furious with everyone who even dared touch the woman he loved. He tried to touch her, but of course, was unable to. Her nose was slightly crooked. She was sobbing and burying her face in her hands._

 _"_ _Are you enjoying yourself?"_

 _Ron jumped in surprise at the sound of adult Hermione's voice behind him. He whipped around and saw her there. She was wearing her sleep clothes and wore an icy look. Before he could say anything, she grabbed his wrist and exited the Pensieve._

He immediately regretted ever entering the Pensieve, except for the fact that he now knew Hermione's past much better. "Look, Hermione," he began. The expression on her face could probably compete with Antarctica. "I didn't know what I was doing… I just woke up and it felt like… like it was calling to me," he babbled.

Hermione frowned, sitting on the bed, her expression now blank as she stared at the wall. "That's because I was having a nightmare. I just wasn't thrashing around or anything. It wasn't a really bad one. I guess when you woke up and you noticed it, you could just tell," she muttered, her voice empty.

Ron paused, and then sat down next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "I'm really sorry, Hermione. I didn't know," he whispered, kissing the top of her head as she leaned into him.

"I know you didn't," she replied. She was too tired to be mad at him.

After a minute or so, Ron gave her shoulder a little squeeze. He knew that she was having a hard time staying angry with him. "Did those kids really pick on you all that often?" he inquired softly as she let her head rest on his chest. Her arms were folded protectively over her chest.

She closed her eyes, memories fluttering through her head. She let Ron rub her arm absently as she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yes," she confirmed. "I was too small to defend myself, and they would threaten to break my arm if I told anyone," she admitted.

Ron considered this, still massaging her arm with his hand. He rested his chin on the top of her head. "Bloody hell, Hermione… You didn't seem all that weak when you came to Hogwarts. If I'm being honest, you were kind of rude with your know-it-all knowledge," he confessed, chuckling as she unfolded her arms to smack him on the forehead, and then refolded them.

She blinked a couple of times before answering. "That's because Hogwarts was a second chance for me. It was a way for me to start over, to actually make my first friends. I didn't want to leave, because then I'd have to go back to my old school where I'd have to make up some story of where I've been and they'd find a way to make fun of it," she shrugged. "That's why I didn't want to get expelled. That's also partly why I was making sure I was at the top of my classes. I wanted to pass, but I also wanted to show that I was worth something. I never thought that I'd have this," she rambled, gesturing at Ron with one hand.

He was confused, his eyebrows knitting together. "You never thought that you'd have what? Friends?" he asked softly, his heart melting with every word she said to him. He let her talk, though, figuring that she'd probably never talked about something like this with anyone, except maybe herself.

Hermione grasped his free hand with one of hers, finally uncrossing her arms for good. "I never thought I'd be able to find love. I mean, sure, I would be able to find someone to love, but at the time, I never thought I'd find someone who would ever fancy me. But now I have, and I love you, Ronald Weasley. I love you with all of my heart," her voice cracked near the end of her explanation as tears began to pave a path on her cheeks.

Ron held her closer, shushing her softly as she began to sob. He pulled her onto his lap, smiling as she curled up into him. "Hermione Granger, I love you more than words can describe. You are worth more than the world to me because you are _my_ world. I would do anything for you, anything at all. Can you come with me real quick?"

She nodded, wiping her eyes and climbing off of him, standing up. Ron grabbed her hand and led her to the restroom that was connected to their bedroom. He turned on the lights, nearly blinding both of them. He pointed at her reflection in the mirror. "See that? Do you know what that is?" he inquired.

The reflection of her wore a frown and had her arms folded across her chest, mirroring the real Hermione. "I see a person who still wears scars from all the times she was put in her place. There's a lot of scars, they cover her. She's too skinny, and her hair is a mess. Her eyes are a dull brown, and she has no special features other than the ugly scars. I see a scrawny girl with dirty blood," she commented truthfully.

Ron shook his head, still staring at her reflection. "No. That's not right. That beautiful being in the mirror is the most amazing and wonderful person who ever set foot on this earth. She has determination and perseverance, and she won't back down to anything. Sure, she has a couple of battle scars, but they pronounce the fact that she has experienced more in twenty-two years than anyone should have to experience in their whole lives. That being in the mirror is the exact representation of perfection."

A small smile crossed onto Hermione's face as she had to struggle to blink back tears. "Shut up," she mumbled, blushing like mad and trying, but failing, to hide it.

With a grin, her boyfriend took her hand in his and gave it a small squeeze. "I don't think either of us has very much self-esteem, sweetheart. That's why we need to hold each other up," he reasoned, pulling her in for a hug. "Now, how about we go back to sleep and savor the last few precious hours of rest we can get?" he suggested, and she murmured her agreement.

Together they moved towards the bed, but before Hermione could climb in, Ron grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up, spinning a few times as she screeched with laughter and smacked at his head. He set her down on the bed, chuckling as she glared at him. "What was that for?" she asked.

Ron shrugged, smirking at her as he wrapped his arms around her. "I don't know. I just felt like doing it," he offered, but she snorted sarcastically so he knew that wasn't enough.

Hermione shifted every minute, though, sometimes with irritated noises. Eventually, she just let out a small growl. "I can't sleep," she sighed as Ron rubbed her back. "Can we go out on the balcony?" she inquired with a pleading tone of voice.

There was a small pause where Ron cursed mentally, but he knew that he'd do anything for her. She was, after all, the woman he loved. He followed her numbly as she exited to the balcony and swung her legs over the railing. Ron mimicked the action, breathing in the chilly autumn air. Hermione didn't seem to notice that it was raining.

Raindrops fell onto the both of them, and while Ron hunched over to protect his face, Hermione remained rigid. She was obviously very deep in thought. Ron thought it best not to disturb her. He paid her all of his attention, but she ignored him. He realized that she wasn't thinking absently, but her eyes were sweeping-no, _scouring_ the world below them.

They lived in a neighborhood that housed both wizards and Muggles. He had known how much Hermione had dreamed of living in such a place, and he didn't blame her at all for that. He quite liked the place in which they lived, almost as much as he liked their house.

All of a sudden, Hermione landed on the balcony, running inside. Ron chased after her, bewildered. She flew down the stairs without a word as Ron called after her, not nearly fast enough to catch up. Hermione threw open the front door and ran outside. "Bloody hell, Hermione!" Ron shouted as he followed.

Finally, he realized what she was running to. There was a bloke staggering around in the rain, looking extremely thin. He had broad shoulders and a hard face, but somehow he looked weak, wandering through the streets. Hermione approached him without a moment's hesitation. "Excuse me, are you alright?" she spoke, making sure he saw her.

Ron was too far behind to hear his reply, and he was being slowed down by the rain. The next thing he knew, Hermione was running to meet him halfway with the Muggle behind her. He looked relieved, somehow. Hermione grabbed Ron's wrists in her hands and when she talked, it was with a very serious tone of voice.

"He's starving, Ronald, and homeless. Can we please, _please_ just let him sleep on our couch for tonight, just for tonight!" she pleaded, her voice desperate. The Muggle had caught up with her, and Ron realized he was sopping wet.

He stared at his girlfriend with a look of astonishment. "Bloody hell! Don't you think we've been through quite enough for us to know not to trust strangers! Don't you remember Bathilda? Or Barty Crouch Jr.?" he insisted, his gaze switching between Hermione and the bloke continuously.

With a jolt, he realized that she had tears in her eyes. He crumbled, and she didn't even have to say anything else. "Fine, one night. Just one night! But I don't want to see you without your, uh, stick on you," he demanded. Both Hermione and the Muggle let out a huge breath of relief as the trio entered the house.

"Thank you, thank you, oh thank you!" the Muggle was gushing appreciatively as they wrapped him in a towel and set him down on the sofa. Hermione escaped to the kitchen to reheat some leftover spaghetti from her birthday, leaving Ron with the Muggle. "Is that your wife?"

The bloke's question caught Ron's attention. "Girlfriend," he muttered absently, drying his hair with his own towel. He wished they had just gone to sleep like he wanted to.

The Muggle nodded in understanding. He had an elongated face and a short, sharp nose. He wasn't very handsome at all. "Well, then, congrats dude. She's smoking hot," he commented, trying to peer into the kitchen to catch a glimpse of Hermione. At least the guy had the decency to keep his voice down.

Ron frowned, a wave of overprotectiveness washing over him. "You might want to stop talking about her that way or I'll kick your arse back out onto the freezing cold streets," he replied coldly. The bloke held up his hands in surrender, chuckling. Ron didn't like him, at all.

Hermione returned soon after that, with a plate of food that she handed to the Muggle. She sat down next to Ron, grabbing his hand in hers. "What did you say your name was again?" she asked, staring at him with concentration on her face.

The bloke laughed dryly as he shoved a bite of food in his mouth. "I didn't," he began, making Ron glare at him. "But I'll tell _you_ either way," he continued, winking at Hermione and making Ron loathe him more. "Lewis O'Conner," he introduced himself.

Immediately, Ron felt Hermione's grip on his hand tighten. She seemed rigid as a board, her wide eyes staring at him. Lewis seemed to notice this, and frowned at her tense figure. "Did I say something?"

Without hesitation, Ron gave Hermione's hand a small squeeze as well. He could tell that there were tears just waiting to fall from her eyes. "You…" she gasped, her free hand wandering to her pocket. Ron grabbed it with his own free hand, holding hers still. "Surely you remember me, don't you?" Her voice had unexpectedly grown bitter. "Surely you remember 'Filthy Little Bookworm Granger', don't you?"

Lewis's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. He seemed generally bewildered at this new piece of information. "You're… you're Granger? _Hermione_ Granger?" he seemed to need clarification. He seemed unable to grasp the concept that this beautiful woman in front of him was the same girl that he used to call Filthy Little Bookworm Granger.

Hermione leaned in slightly. "I think that's the first time I've ever heard you use my first name," she said with a bit of surprise in her voice. She was shooting daggers at him, though, and he was accepting them. "You know, we had so many happy memories together, didn't we? I remember the first time we met…the first time you beat me up…the second time you beat me up…the third time you beat me up…I think I lost count around the fifth," she spat.

White-hot anger bubbled up within Ron and it took every last inch of self-control he had to keep him from punching Lewis until he screamed for mercy. His eyes roamed hungrily over her body, resting on certain parts that made Ron want to kill him. "Jeez, Granger… When did you get so smoking hot? No hard feelings about the past, right?" he tried, resting his eyes on her chest.

Before Ron could attack, though, Hermione's fist flew into Lewis's face. " _No hard feelings?"_ she nearly screamed at him. " _No hard feelings?_ After you worked your very hardest, made it your life's goal, even, to make sure I remained friendless for the rest of my life? After you threatened to break my arm if I told anyone, and then broke it anyway the next day? After you made every day of my young life living Hell?" she kept yelling, and Ron didn't stop her. In fact, he was glad that the bastard was getting his arse handed to him on a silver platter.

Lewis seemed genuinely shocked at Hermione's reaction. His mouth was slightly ajar, and he had forgotten all about his food. "Look Granger, I never meant any of that stuff. I was just a kid. I was just playing around, you know? I was just a kid," he attempted to talk his way out of it.

Ron finally decided to speak up. "Yeah, and she was just a kid, too. She was just a kid who wanted so desperately to make friends, but who was deprived of the one thing kids need most of all." His own words made him think of Harry and Luna, both having been in the same situation as Hermione.

However, Lewis just laughed, his attention still on Hermione, though he pointed a finger at Ron. "Is this the best you can do, Granger? You grow up to be super sexy and the best you can get is some random, ugly bloke you found off of the streets. You know what they say about gingers; they have no souls," he continued to laugh mockingly.

Bright anger flared within Hermione's eyes. "Ronald is the best thing to ever have happened to me. There is no man sweeter, more soulful, than him. I have been best friends with him since I was twelve. He is twenty times the man you'll ever be, O'Conner, and I'm sure you know it." Her voice was dangerously cold.

He smirked, his gaze switching between Ron and Hermione. Finally, Lewis just chuckled. "Not quite, Granger. But I guess he's the only friend that you were able to get wherever you went. Where did you go, the mental institute?" he inquired with a smug grin.

Hermione gave Ron's hand a squeeze, and then let it go. "Ron, I want you to go get Harry and Ginny. I'll show this bloke just how many friends I have," she muttered as she approached the nearest bookshelf and began rifling through it. Ron started towards the door. "No. I want you to disapparate. It'll be quicker. I don't care if he sees, he's a piece of filth anyway," she told him sourly.

Ron nodded obediently and disapparated to Harry and Ginny's house. Hermione continued to search the shelf until she came across what she was looking for. When she turned back to Lewis, he was staring at the spot where Ron just was, his mouth wide open. Hermione ignored his stuttering and sat down, handing him the book.

He grasped it, almost dropping it as he read the title. There was a _moving_ picture of Hermione on the front cover, where she was laughing with the Don bastard and some other, scrawny, black-haired bloke with circular glasses. The title read _The Golden Trio: Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger._

"Read it and weep, bastard," Hermione growled at him, snatching the book from him. "Do you know what it means?" she inquired. He shook his head quickly, a permanent look of shock on his face. "It means that my friends and I are practically legend. Not from the world you know, though," she shrugged, fully enjoying his bewilderment.

Meanwhile, Ron was trying to wake Harry and Ginny. They had given a start, and then realized that it was him and calmed down. "You bloody idiots…" Ron breathed out. "There is a bloke from Hermione's past in my house right now and she needs support." The two stirred slightly, but Ginny mumbled something and smacked Ron's leg.

Ron sighed, pressing one hand to his throbbing temple. "He's a kid that used to pick on her and beat her up, pre-Hogwarts, and I'm not too comfortable with leaving her there alone with him so I'd appreciate it if you two would come help her prove that she's worth something and she has friends," he insisted.

This seemed to grab their attention and the two sat up, Harry shoving his glasses on his face. Ginny made a frustrated noise as she climbed out of bed and grabbed a brush, combing through her hair. She never liked to talk much in the mornings. Harry was pushing the blankets away and standing up. "Tell me, mate, is he bad?" he asked.

With a snort, Ron smirked at his half-asleep best friend. "I've met Death Eaters who are more decent than him, and trolls that smelled better. He was homeless, and for good reason. I smelled cigars on his breath. Are you ready?" His question was directed to Ginny.

"Merlin's beard, Ronald," she groaned. "Yes, I'm ready, but I don't see why we you two were even up at three in the morning." Ron just grinned as the three of them apparated to where Hermione sat staring at a blond bloke with disbelief written in his features.

Lewis stared at Ron and the other two that just _appeared out of bloody nowhere._ "Where the hell did they just come from?" he yelped. Hermione kept her burning gaze on him, not even looking at the new arrivals. "They literally just appeared out of nowhere!" Lewis was breathing hard, his hand over his chest.

He was silenced as Harry punched him in the face, surprising everyone. Ginny had a different tactic, pushing Harry aside. She suddenly kicked Lewis in the groin. "That, was for even daring to touch _my_ best friend," she stated. Then she kicked him again. "And _that_ , was for making me get up so early," she continued.

Hermione was shocked, and saw Ginny recoiling for a third kick. "Gin, don't!" she interrupted. "I didn't want you guys to hurt him. That's unjust!" she stared between Ginny and Harry while Ron covered his smile from the sidelines.

Harry exchanged a look with Ginny, before he laughed. "Hermione, what do you expect us to do? We're not Hufflepuffs, we're Gryffindors," he explained, a hint of confusion on his face.

"I _know_ , but we're not Slytherin, either. I just wanted to show my dear old acquaintance Lewis the fact that yes, I do have friends," she turned her gaze back to Lewis. "In fact, I have more than this, but one of them is teaching and the other is hunting wild creatures for her dad," she spat at him.

Lewis smirked mockingly. "These are friends?" he gestured towards Harry and Ginny. There was slight pain on his face as his nose bled and he crossed his legs. "What did you do, round up the weirdest band of misfits you could imagine? I mean seriously, you have another ginger and a blind kid with a scratch on his forehead."

Hermione whipped her wand out and pointed it at him. He could insult her all he wanted, but he better not touch her friends. "Ginny is one of the most supportive people I have ever met, and Harry? Harry did more when he was one year old than you ever did in your whole life. He is the Chosen One, the Boy Who Lived. These people are braver than you could ever imagine," she snarled at him.

He just began laughing maniacally at her wand, not realizing that it is a wand. "Still so weak, aren't you, Filthy Little Bookworm Granger? You point a _stick_ at me and expect me to be scared. What are you going to do, poke me with it?" he was still in hysterics.

" _Expecto Patronum_ ," Hermione muttered in a calm voice, her jaw set. She was thinking of when Harry proved that he was alive, and she was rejoicing with Ron. A silver otter burst out of the end of her wand, swimming through the air. "When I left school, it was because I was heading to Hogwarts," she told him slowly. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Right then, Ron, Harry, and Ginny all pulled out their wands and pointed it at Lewis. Lewis stared at the otter with a mix between amusement, surprise, and, even deeper, fear. "You have a projector, don't you? You're trying to make me think you're worth something, you bloody bookworm, but you're not. You're just lying," he growled.

Harry was the one who cast the next spell. " _Locomotor Mortis,"_ he growled, Lewis's legs being locked together. He furiously tried to separate them.

"A bunch of freaks, you all are! Just a group of bloody freaks! You lot are just wanting to be different because you were rejected by society. I'm certain of it," he exclaimed, his wide eyes switching between the four of them.

Ron smirked at him, cool determination on his face. "I don't know what you're talking about," he shrugged, pointing to the book that was still on the table. "Last I checked, we were celebrities in our society. In fact, Harry has been so since he was one year old. Defeated the bloody Dark Lord, we did," he grinned.

Lewis's gaze rested on Ginny. "The book only mentions you three. It never says anything about her," he pointed out, desperate to defend himself while still trying to free his legs.

Ginny returned his stare, her hand tightening on her wand. "Oh, I'm definitely mentioned in the book," she assured him. "Let's see, I'm married to Harry, I'm the sister of Ron, I'm best friends with Hermione, I'm on an extremely famous sports team, and… What was that other part?" she feigned being deep in thought. "Oh yeah, I was possessed when I was eleven, yet I still survived it and helped these idiots whenever I could. So, I think I am definitely mentioned in there at least once."

He just snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. The fear was clear on his face now, though. His gaze returned to Hermione. "Where'd you get all those scars, Granger? Did big mean bullies beat you up again?" He wore a fake, mocking pout.

A small smile crawled its way onto Hermione's face, though it was a sad one. "I pity you, Lewis. You know, there are things much worse than bullies. There are people that are much worse. If only you weren't too dimwitted-"she cut herself off as a crack sounded outside the house.

Maniacal laughter filled the air. They gradually realized that it was coming from Lewis. With a bang, he burst into flames, which roared momentarily before ceasing to exist. The four instantly turned their backs to each other, backing into a square and staring around skeptically. The doors suddenly blew open, the windows following suit, and a cold wind blew through the house.

"There!" Ginny screeched as at least a dozen Death Eaters jumped in through a broken window. Spells immediately began to be fired. " _Stupefy! Petrificus Totalus! Impedimenta!"_ Ginny was screaming at the Death Eaters who quickly surrounded the four of them.

They were outnumbered almost four to one, and while bursts of light flew all across the room, none seemed to hit any of the four. " _Avada Kedavra!"_ A flash of green light missed Harry's ear by no more than a millimeter, making Ginny shriek. Ron noticed one bloke pointing his wand at Hermione while she was distracted with a different one.

He heard the Killing Curse being shouted by the Death Eater and without even thinking, Ron broke the formation to bowl into Hermione, knocking her out of the way. The spell missed him by mere centimeters. Hermione shoved him off of her in time to cast a Stunning Spell at a Death Eater that was gearing up to attack Ron.

There were only three Death Eaters remaining after five minutes. Ginny was hit by a Stunning Spell and Ron had nearly lost a finger. They were all cut up, burned, and bruised by the various curses and hexes that had been thrown at them. Harry grabbed Ginny and was reaching for Ron and Hermione, preparing to disapparate.

Hermione shrieked as one of the Death Eaters raised his wand and screamed, " _Crucio!"_ Ron reacted immediately, grabbing her hand and trying to pull himself closer to her, but another Death Eater grabbed his bare wrist. Ron was just able to see one of them fall as the third and last grabbed hold of Hermione, ripping their hands apart as both Death Eaters apparated away with Ron and Hermione.

Back at the house, Harry shouted. His fingers had been just a few centimeters from Ron's skin. He could have saved them. He could have stopped it. With shaking hands, he gripped his wand and pointed it at Ginny. " _Rennervate,"_ he whispered, his voice hoarse, and Ginny woke up at once.

"Harry!" she gasped, her eyes wide as she looked around. The room was a mess and there were books, rubble, and debris scattered everywhere, but there was no sign of her brother or best friend. "Harry, where are they? Where are Ron and Hermione?" she demanded, fear portrayed in her features.

There were a few tears on Harry's cheeks. He wasn't afraid to cry; he had just lost his two best friends. "They took them!" he yelled, even though it hurt. "The last two Death Eaters, they took them!" Ginny gasped, grasping his hand even harder. "I was reaching for Ron, I was about to disapparate, but… They beat me to it," he concluded, sounding defeated.

Ginny was shocked into silence, her mouth forming a perfect 'O'. She suddenly closed her mouth, her eyes hard. "We need to contact the Ministry, immediately."

Both Ron and Hermione had been knocked out right after apparating by the two Death Eaters. Therefore, when Ron woke up, he had no idea where he was. He glanced around the room, his vision slightly blurry. He reached his hand up to his head, wincing as he felt a bump on the back of it. He was in a stone cell with no visible doors. He tried disapparating, but no luck.

 _Hermione!_ He suddenly remembered her, his memory of the previous night flooding his mind. He glanced around and saw her sitting in a corner with her arms laying limp on either side of her. Her eyes were closed, though he knew she was awake. He moved towards her, only to be held back roughly by shackles enclosing his hands that were chained to the wall. He cursed under his breath. "Hermione," he croaked out, even though it hurt to speak.

Her brown eyes opened slowly, and she set them on him. They were foggy and unfocused at first, but they soon cleared as she realized that it was him. She didn't say anything, though she did sit up a little straighter. The two of them just stared at each other, soaking in every feature of the other.

Ron loathed the fact that she was too far away to touch. With a jolt, he realized that their clothing had been changed. They were now wearing baggy clothing that seemed way too big for them. It was simple clothing, consisting of nothing more than a T-Shirt, a pair of jeans, and undergarments. Neither of them were wearing shoes.

The room was dreadfully cold, making Ron wonder whether there was dementors there. He watched as she closed her eyes again, almost in a defeated way. However, he knew that she was too strong for that. She was likely contemplating how they were going to escape.

All of a sudden, a section of the stone wall caved inwards, and three Death Eaters walked in. One stepped forwards while the other two hung back. The one in front, apparently the leader, smirked and bowed slightly to them. "Rodolphus Lestrange," he introduced himself. Both Ron and Hermione's eyes widened in shock. "So nice to finally meet you two."

 **A/N: Hey, I'm uh... I'm sorry it took so long for me to update this... I've been trying to spend time with my family; we went camping, and then it was my brother's birthday, and yesterday my grandma died, so I'm trying to work on it. I'll try to have the next chapter up as soon as possible.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This chapter is about half the size of my regular chapter, I know. Sorry! I've just been busy because tomorrow I'm going to go on a 17-hour car trip with my family to another state for my grandma's funeral. I will hopefully get some more writing done, but there is no guarantee. Where I'll be staying for the next week or so, I'm not going to be able to write much, but I will whenever possible ^^.**

Rodolphus wore a wicked grin, his gaze resting on Hermione. His smile seemed to widen considerably at the fear on her face. "I do believe you two knew my wife, Bellatrix?" he inquired. "Especially you, Mudblood," he directed his voice to Hermione now. She flinched, trembling slightly.

Ron furiously fought against his restraints, snarling at Rodolphus. "How _dare_ you?" he shouted, not catching Hermione's warning glance to stop. "You leave her alone, you hear me? You leave her alone, now!" he commanded through gritted teeth.

There was a surprised pause as Rodolphus considered this. "You mean, you don't want me to do… _this?_ " he pointed his wand at Hermione. "And you don't want me to say… Hmm… What was it again?" He pretended to be in deep thought. "Oh, yeah. _Crucio!"_ he remarked with a smirk.

Hermione screamed with pain and began to squirm on the ground, feeling as if her whole body was being torn apart. Rodolphus laughed evilly and left the room, his two guards following behind him. "We'll see you at dinnertime, and then we'll discuss your retribution," he assured them as the wall slid back in.

She was shaking violently, curled up against the wall. Ron immediately hated himself for speaking up to Rodolphus. "Hermione…" his voice was soft as she stared at her as if she was a wounded animal. "I am so sorry, I really didn't mean to make him do that! I swear, when we make it out of here, I will make it up to you. I will make it up to you if it is the last thing I do," he swore, crossing his hand over his heart.

With a shaky breath, Hermione looked up to meet his eyes. She saw the pity and regret there, and it filled her with the slightest bit of ire. "Stop looking at me like that…" she muttered, the first time she'd spoken as long as they'd been there. She was still mulling over the fact that Bellatrix's husband was the one holding her and Ron captive.

Ron averted his gaze, feeling extremely guilty and upset with himself. Why couldn't he just keep his stupid mouth shut? Nothing good ever came when he opened his big mouth. For the first time in his life, he wished that he was mute. Then he couldn't have caused the woman he loved to be tortured again. He would have much preferred to have taken her place.

"Don't blame yourself…" Hermione's gentle voice broke his train of thought. It took him a minute to realize what she was saying. She stared into his blue eyes, fierce determination reflected in hers. "Whatever you do, I don't want you to blame yourself… He just reacted violently, you were… You were being very brave…" she offered him a weak smile, leaning her head back against the stone.

Ron nodded, returning her smile. "You are the most beautiful person I have ever met," he told her honestly, making her blush. She turned her face away. "I hate to see you in pain," he admitted with a frown on his face.

She mumbled something inaudibly. "Ronald Bilius Weasley, you are the best thing to have ever happened to me. Don't you dare think that you have ever caused me physical pain," she told him. "Emotional pain is different. That one was quite a few times, but I don't blame you for that either," she continued with a smirk.

He snorted in disdain, but didn't reply verbally.

They didn't know how much time passed after that. They had no way of keeping track of the time. Hermione curled up against the wall, listening as Ron somehow found sleep. She somehow knew that she wouldn't be able to fall into a slumber as easily as he did. She was afraid to sleep, if she was being honest. She was terrified of having to relive the Cruciatus Curse in her dreams.

Instead, she busied herself by watching Ron as she thought about the future she could have with him once they got out of this. She loved him more than words could describe. As long as she'd known him, he had always seemed shallow, but she had known all along that there was so much more to him.

She had been desperate to work him out ever since the day they had met. She just couldn't figure his mind out; it was complex. She hated to admit it, but it was. With every side of him she saw, she became more and more confused and determined to understand him. She viewed his mind as many layers, each one harder to decipher than the last.

Ronald Weasley was, in fact, a challenge to her. She was absolutely persistent to try and comprehend every last detail of his mind. She wanted to know how he thought and what he felt. She had seen the true Ron, and what she saw was not a shallow, dimwitted being, but a responsible, intelligent, fascinating, and emotional person. That was partly why she loved him.

Ever since their first year at Hogwarts, she had been trying to sort him out. Back then, she saw him as a threat, a puzzle that she needed to solve. Now, ten years later, she had only broken through a few layers of him, and every time she understood something new about him, she became encouraged to work harder.

Hermione was jolted out of her thoughts as Ron began to murmur in his sleep. "No… No… Don't… Don't leave… I didn't… Hermione…" his voice seemed distraught and bewildered, but also sullen and dark.

She hesitated, and then tried to reach him with her foot to kick him awake. It didn't work. "Ron!" she whisper-shouted. "Ronald, wake up!" Her voice was a low hiss as she began to hear heavy footfalls nearing the door from where the moving door was.

He didn't wake, though, and the wall caved, Rodolphus walking in. There was one Death Eater behind him, carrying two small bowls of food. Rodolphus noticed Ron's sleeping form and frowned. "Hm. How ungrateful. _Crucio!"_ he pointed his wand at Ron as he recited the spell. Ron woke up yelling in pain.

Ron glanced around, his eyes bleary, and saw Rodolphus, his eyes opening wide immediately. "Bloody hell!" he spat, looking visibly shaken by the Cruciatus Curse. The Death Eater behind Rodolphus set the bowls down in front of either one of them. Both ignored it, albeit it was harder for Ron, as they set their gaze on Rodolphus.

"Good. You're awake," he seemed amused. "I'm going to tell you how this will work. You two are here partly to be used as target practice. We are raising another generation of Death Eaters, and they will practice their Cruciatus Curses on you two. Some ambitious ones might even use sectumsempra. You never know. Now, the more you comply and the more that happens to you via the Apprentices, you will each earn points."

He paused for emphasis before continuing on. "These points will be able to be traded in for certain luxuries. After all, we do award those who are faithful," he smirked. "You will earn one point per Cruciatus Curse and two per sectumsempra. You may trade in ten points for double food for one day and one day only. Twenty points for socks. Fifty points for a blanket. For one hundred points, you will be allowed out of your shackles every night from 9 pm until 9 am. You can choose whether or not to participate as target practice any given day. You will also, however, earn no points for that day," he elaborated.

Ron raised his voice first to ask a question. "What if we need to use the latrines?" he inquired, narrowing his eyes at Rodolphus.

Rodolphus still wore a smirk as he conjured two buckets, one by each of them. "There you go. Watch each other or not, it doesn't matter by me. The buckets will magically clean themselves each day. If there is no more questions, I will leave and let you two eat. And yes, you will eat like animals."

He exited before either of the prisoners could utter another word. There was an awkward silence as Ron peered into his food. It was dry, chunky oatmeal that did not look appetizing at all. He could have sworn he had seen a beetle crawling around in it.

The intensity of the quietness was broken by Hermione's strangled sob as she purposely smacked her head back on the stone wall. "Animals, Ronald!" she whisper-shouted. "We're just filthy, dirty animals to them. It's not fair," she sighed, staring down at her bowl. She frowned as a spider climbed over the edge, into the food. "I'm sorry…" she whispered, tears beginning to leak out of her eyes.

There was confusion on Ron's face, though she wasn't looking at it. "What do you have to be sorry for?" he asked quietly, his voice slow as if he were talking to a distressed child. He was still eyeing his 'food'.

Hermione let out a broken sob and hung her head in defeat. "I let him in the house. I didn't even know who he was. You were right, Ron… You were right, and I was wrong, and now we're treated like animals because of it… Just mangy, worthless beasts…" she spat, furious with herself for letting Lewis in.

"Hey… Hey, it's okay…" Ron replied softly, wishing so desperately that he could reach his hand out and lift her chin up. "You didn't know what would happen. No one did. You were just doing what you thought was right. No one can blame you, really…" he reassured her.

She didn't argue, but she didn't stop weeping, either. Neither of them touched their dinners, and in approximately fifteen minutes, it vanished. When Hermione fell asleep that night, her dreams were haunted and dark.

When the two of them awoke the next morning, they were starving, yet they didn't get fed. The cell was filled with their screams of pain that day, and the next, as well as the next. They finally learned to eat the food that had been given to them. It was exactly a month later, on Sunday, October 28, that something finally happened.

Rodolphus had come in as per usual, delivering their dinners. He was very fond of his 'Pets' as he called them. Both had lost a little bit of weight, but they had a system worked out where they would pay the points for double food at just the right time and they didn't become emaciated. They weren't being starved, exactly. In fact, the food had improved in quality and amount the more fond Rodolphus grew of them. They were given a bowl of water as well twice a day, whereas it used to be every two days.

However, both Hermione and Ron were quite ill on many different levels. They had deep gouges in random places, though none too serious. They both bore signs of torture, though they had grown used to it over the time.

As Rodolphus patted them both on the head and was about to leave, Hermione spoke up. "Sir, I believe I have accumulated one hundred points, haven't I?" she asked politely. She and Ron had learned to kiss up to Rodolphus, no matter how much they loathed him.

He grinned and gave her dirty cheek another little pat. "Incorrect. You have accumulated one hundred and nineteen points, Miss Granger. Is it the nightly freedom that you're asking for?" he inquired. She nodded fervently. "Well, then that will be granted to you. Your shackles will be removed for the night in three hours." And with that, he left.

Hermione beamed at Ron, who returned her smile. They both knew what it would mean if she was to be let out. They had been planning this for weeks. While Ron would buy the double food and share it with her, she would always be saving for nightly freedom. They had had plenty of time to work this out. Ron had also been able to acquire socks for the both of them.

Ron smirked suddenly, leaning against the wall. "I honestly cannot believe we have not been tortured into insanity yet, like Neville's parents," he laughed, shooting Hermione an amused look.

She rolled her eyes, but wore a small smile. "There are differences. I'd imagine that Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom were most broken by the threats to their child, which I'm sure the Death Eaters used. As for you and I, well…" she chuckled softly. "We already have each other, and they need us. They have no access to our friends whatsoever, so what's the worst that can happen?"

He grunted his agreement. Three hours later, a Death Eater entered and removed Hermione's shackles. There was instantly tears on her face as she launched herself at Ron. She smashed her lips against his as they heard the wall shut again. They were both in a mixture of laughter and crying. It was the first time they had touched in a month.

They had always been so close, yet so far. They were both experiencing excruciating pain, but they didn't care. They had each other. That was all that mattered. That night, when they fell asleep, she was curled up into him. It was the best sleep the both of them had had in a month.

Harry had just gotten off of work. He flew up the stairs to the bedroom that he and Ginny shared. He shook her awake, laughing hysterically. She woke up with a shocked and terrified expression until she saw the utter joy he sported. "We found it!" he gasped. "We found the headquarters of the Death Eaters!"

Ginny's hands flew to her mouth briefly before she flung herself into Harry's arms. "Oh, Harry! We can find them! We can finally find them and rescue them!" she responded, actually crying. She hardly cried, at all, but the prospect of seeing her favorite brother as well as her best friend again was too much for her to bear.

With another laugh, Harry pulled his head back to look at her. "We're going on Wednesday, on Halloween. Currently we're practicing our spells and emergency procedures, as well as figuring out their base and all of the traps. We just _happened_ to capture their Secret- Keeper, and with a little bit of Veritaserum and persuasion, she told us everything! We also learned that your mother is really an imposter using the Polyjuice Potion, and has been for three months. Your real mom is at the headquarters, but we'll be able to save her, too." He kissed her full on the lips. It was a time of rejoicing for both of them.

 **A/N: Please read and review and leave any criticism; I don't mind being criticized. I'm kind of rushed as I write this because I have to go and pack, but I just want to thank you all so much for hanging on and reading this with everything that's going on :).**


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